


Survive

by Queen_of_Dingos



Series: Survive [1]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Cannibalism (mentions of), Canon Typical Violence, Löwen Games, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4117717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_Dingos/pseuds/Queen_of_Dingos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roddy Geiger finds himself an unwilling participant in the Löwen Games. From the moment he's unloaded from the dingy trailer he knows, this is the place he's going to die. However, things don't always go as planned and sometimes your greatest ally is the stranger beside you...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Whole story has been cleaned up. Hopefully there're no more mistakes.

Roddy should have known things would end like this. If his classmates could see him now they’d probably laugh, tell him he deserves it – after all, he’s too poor, too different, too _Roddy_ for his life to have been worth much anyways. He groaned both hands clasped tightly to the back of his head as it throbbed with every lurch of the ground below him. _It’s a truck or a horse trailer_ , his brain supplied helpfully even as he struggled to adjust to the dim light of his surroundings. Fighting back the slight wave of nausea that seemed to accompany every dip and bump in the road he inhaled deeply before attempting to discern the contents of his transport and, if he was lucky, catch a whiff of the terrain rolling by outside. Immediately he found himself nearly overpowered by the stench of fear permeating the space around him. With another weak groan he curled further into himself, tucking his head between his bent knees in an attempt to block out the overwhelming stench.

He’d been making his way home from a rave when he’d caught a trace of something; it was indistinct yet sharp enough to set off alarm bells throughout his entire being. There had been a whisper of movement in the shadows then nothing but darkness. He cursed again as the transport swung to the side and he found himself slamming painfully against metal bars. So he was in a cage on top of everything – wonderful. There was a screeching noise as he was suddenly sliding in the opposite direction and sounds of distress rose from his traveling companions, whomever they might be. He inhaled feebly again, attempting to at least discern some of his neighbors’ identities. Roddy jerked away again as the scents began processing in his sluggish mind. Blood, fear and anger; they all screamed out at him but, most prominently, was the alarming tang of predator and danger. In answer to his sudden distress, a warning growl rumbled through the space next to him, setting off answering snarls and hisses no doubt from other predators dispersed throughout their carrier. Roddy forced himself to sit upright again despite the near constant jarring of his cage as they passed onto rougher roads. _What the hell? We’re leaving the main road._

Then, what Roddy feared most came to pass and their progress came to a gradual but gut-wrenching stop. Though the pounding in his head had not yet faded he could already hear more clearly than before. There were voices, deep, booming voices, circling the carrier as the engine died after one final lurch. He could hear the unsettled murmurs rising around him and a few bolder voices demanding answers as the lock rattled on their transport.

Roddy closed his eyes in anticipation of the bright light that flooded through causing another round of expletives and complaints to rise from the gathered captives. He seized violently, his eyes still clenched tightly, as the sound of a gunshot reverberated through his still-pounding skull. “Shut up the lot of ya! If anyone thinks of trying anything they’ll be pumped full of lead in a flash. If that doesn’t deter you…” There was a sudden pause before a roar thundered through their space, “then that’s just a taste of what you’ll be up against.”

_Löwen._

The Wesen next to Roddy snarled again in response to the threat though Roddy could tell it was more reflexive than any real attempt at retaliation. Nobody was stupid enough to start something while still locked in a cage – especially after the Löwens’ little display. The trailer was filled with sounds of rattling and yelling as the cages in front were unloaded, each one containing a different frightened or enraged Wesen. Some cringed away from their captors, their submissive behavior usually earning them a round of snarling laughter from Löwen handling them. The more aggressive ones, those who’d yowled for answers and rattled their bars, met a far worse fate. He watched as a cage containing a snarling, spitting Drang-Zorn was thrown to the ground, the young girl stunned just long enough for the first Löwen to fire off a few rounds into her hand where it dangled outside the bars. An eerie silence fell over the assembled Wesen as her agonized scream pierced the night air and they watched as she was quickly carried away into the blinding light.

_They want to make sure we can never identify where they’ve taken us._

Roddy waited, curled in tense silence against the far wall of his cage as their captors slowly worked their way back towards his row. He stared up with wide, furious eyes at the Löwen that loomed suddenly over him, a sneer twisting its face underneath the beard that obscured its scarred features. “No freaking way. What does Marcus think he’s trying to pull?”

“What are you looking at Alexander?” A younger Löwen asked, approaching his elder with an impatient expression.

“It’s a freaking Reinigen. Does Marcus think we’re stupid or something? What use will a Reinigen be in the ring?” The older Löwen, Alexander, spit at the floor next Roddy’s cage.

“If Marcus is trying to cheat us then she’ll take care of it. Just unload the damn thing.”

“Watch who you’re talking to punk. Remember who’s your elder here,” Alexander snarled, woging just enough for his fangs to manifest as he snapped at the young man still silhouetted against the floodlights. “Just for that, you get to help me carry the stinking thing.”

“Yeah yeah,” the younger one didn’t seem too intimidated by the other’s display of blatant aggression but he still dutifully bent down, dragging Roddy out towards the lip of the trailer. _Shitshitshitshit._ The Reinigen scrabbled at the bars behind him as his whole body lurched forward at the Löwen’s rough handling.

“Hmph,” the Löwen snorted, staring down at him with cruel amusement. “This one won’t last ten seconds out in the arena.”

“If you haven’t noticed nearly half of our shipment this time have been Wesen like him. Prey. Either Marcus is screwing us big time or she has something up her sleeve with these ones.”

“We’ll see,” he young man grunted as he suddenly crouched down to Roddy’s eye-level. The Löwen moved so it could grasp either side of Roddy’s cage and haul him towards the lights. Some long buried instinct in Roddy told him to flee, to scrabble and scratch until he was free. He glanced back at the trailer with no small degree of desperation, wishing suddenly for the dark confines that had so frustrated him on his journey. Without realizing it he woged, a high thin wail emanating from his mouth as he was carried further into the light. He caught the resigned eyes of a few Wesen being carried alongside him and saw the same realization reflected in their gaze.

Suddenly the light shifted and Roddy was thrown back into darkness after the disorienting brightness of the floodlights. He turned over again as the overwhelming smell of blood and rotting wood permeated his senses. He tilted as his cage was suddenly dropped onto hard cement and he was kicked backwards against a wall, once again slotted between two other occupied carriers. As he stared blankly at the wall across from him the truth settled like a dead weight in his chest – there was no way he was leaving here alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and edited chapters 1-6 for easier reading since I cringed going back over what I'd previously published.


	2. Chapter Two

 

 _Suddenly the light shifted and Roddy was thrown back into darkness after the disorienting brightness of the floodlights. He turned over again as the overwhelming smell of blood and rotting wood permeated his senses. He tilted as his cage was suddenly dropped onto hard cement and he was kicked backwards against a wall, once again slotted between two other occupied carriers. As he stared blankly at the wall across from him the truth settled like a dead weight in his chest_ – _there was no way he was leaving here alive._

The next time they were moved it was into a stone basement beneath the barn. Their shouts intensified below ground, reverberating off the stone of the crumbling walls around them and answering each other with ever-increasing frustration and desperation. Roddy simply clamped his hands over his still-ringing ears in an attempt to ease his rapidly building headache. The girl next to him kept shuddering and muttering to herself every time someone passed her cage while the young man on his other side squeaked whenever anyone so much as glanced at him. Roddy was calmer now, probably unnervingly so to the Eisbiber boy staring at him with wide, questioning eyes from across the way.

Without the panic of waking out of unconsciousness and the disorienting bright lights, Roddy’s eyes were finally beginning to adjust to his surroundings and details were falling into place in his mind. Glancing around he noted there weren’t as many Wesen unloaded as he first thought. There were six others trapped with him, each in their own cage though not everyone was in the same condition. For example, the shivering girl to his left appeared dangerously thin and her hair hung in long, greasy tangles, obscuring her face from her new neighbors. She had not been brought down or unloaded from the truck with Roddy and the others. On his other side, however, the young man seemed to be in better condition than any of them despite the nauseating stench of panic rolling off him in waves. He caught Roddy’s eye and issued a thin wail of alarm before turning his back on the Reinigen and the others.

 _Mauzhertz_.

Mauzhertz, being the proverbial bottom of the Wesen food chain, were the only species Roddy could even fathom being intimidated by a Reinigen let alone a lone, injured teenage Reinigen. Quickly, he categorized those he’d so far managed to identify and found each of them particularly useless for aiding his escape. Ignoring the pounding in his skull he rested the side of his head against the bars as he attempted to angle himself to he could see beyond the shadows obscuring either of the other two cages flanking the now trembling Eisbiber. The cage on the left was cloaked almost entirely in darkness making its occupant all but invisible beyond a hunched figure and a low, elongated whine of pain. To the right however, Roddy caught glimpses of red fur as a Fuchsbau attempted to control its panicked woge.

The Reinigen perked up at that, allowing a spark of hope to shoot through him at the realization. Fuchsbau weren’t fighters, sure, but they were clever and they were quick—the perfect partner for a rat looking to make a quick getaway. Roddy blinked, rubbing harshly at his forehead as another thrum of pain threatened to double him over.

_It must be a concussion._

He vaguely recognized the signs as they had been listed in the many presentations and handouts forced on the Portland public school system after some football player landed in the hospital. Sports mothers’ influence is nothing to laugh at. “Fuck,” Roddy muttered, pressing hard at his temples in an attempt to alleviate the pressure building up behind his eyes. The words were barely audible in the damp, dusty air.

The smell of fear was rapidly increasing with every second that ticked by in silent, oppressive darkness. To Roddy’s great surprise it was the Eisbiber who piped up first. “S-so, uh, what do you think they want with us? I mean – Wesen like us – we wouldn’t fetch much on any market is what I’m thinking. And…and we’re not fighters either so – what…what do you think they want with us?” His voice was dry and cracked either from fear or dehydration though, if the scratchy feeling in Roddy’s throat was indication, it could very well be both.

“Speak for yourself Eisbiber,” the Fuchsbau snapped, her voice quavering. “I know for a fact my pelt would sell for a high price on the market.”

“Y-yeah,” the sixth, so far unidentified occupant of the basement piped up from his shadowed corner. “If you think you’re valuable then what about me? I’m a Willahara so they’ll probably just cut off my feet, kill me and be done with it.”

“Oh goodness no!” the Mauzhertz wailed, rattling the bars of his cage desperately. “No, just stop talking. Stop talking about it.”

“It’s the truth,” the Fuchsbau snarled, pressing forward so she could glare hotly at him. “Whether it’s the fur trade or the black market we’ll probably all be dead by sunrise.”

The Mauzhertz let out another pathetic noise as he scrabbled in his cage, muttering deliriously and shaking the bars closing him in. The Eisbiber looked distinctly regretful for having ever opened his mouth while the Willahara continued shivering in his cage, never moving from his hunched position, the lines of his shadow wavering in place.

“They won’t kill us,” the girl beside Roddy spoke up now, a hysterical note rising in her voice. “What they’ve got planned is so much worse. I heard them talking about it when they brought the others.”

“If you haven’t noticed, there’s nobody down here but us,” the Fuchsbau chimed in again. Roddy was beginning to rethink his initial assessment of her potential as an escape partner.

“Exactly,” the other girl continued. “There used to be others but now it’s just us.”

Roddy brought his hands up to cover his ears again as the other Wesens’ fear stench began to blend together and their voices rose with each new theory and accusation. He had to stay calm if he was going to find a way out of this nightmare – if there was a way out. _I’m never leaving here alive_. The thought reverberated through his mind, growing louder as the smell of fear invaded his senses and clouded his mind.

“It’s just us.”

“Did anyone see how many of us they got off the truck?”

 _C’mon Roddy think of something_.

“What about the predators, where are they?”

“Oh god, they’re just keeping us for feed!”

_Would you just shut up already?_

“We’re never going to get out of here alive!”

“We’re going to die down here!”

_No, no no. Just shut up._

“It’s just us now.”

“Will you stop saying that?”

_Dammit Roddy think!_

“Will you just shut up already?”

Suddenly, to Roddy’s surprise, a hush fell over the basement and five pairs of eyes turned in his direction.

“So you want to talk now, huh? What are you?” The Fuchsbau was the first to break the tense silence, craning forward so her tangled red hair finally fell away from her face and sharp hazel eyes narrowed at him in suspicion.

“Reinigen,” Roddy gritted out, finally lowering his hands from around his ears. “I was taken from Portland, around the docks by the river.”

“Portland?” The Mauzhertz uncurled just enough to shuffle forward on his knees. “Oh god. They got me in Astoria.”

“I’m from Walla Walla,” the Eisbiber offered nervously.

“So they grabbed us all from different places,” the Fuchsbau concluded. “I wonder how far east they’ve taken us.”

 _We’re probably out of state by now depending on how long I was out for_. _How many days has it been? Is anyone missing me yet?_

“Well at least one of them doesn’t seem to be broken yet,” the sound of a rusty laugh cut through the tentative discussion and the caged Wesen immediately flattened themselves against the far walls. Roddy glanced up as the young Löwen from before sauntered in. Through the gloom Roddy barely made out a square but crooked jaw and a tangle of straw-blonde hair pulled back towards the nape of his neck. Behind him another young Löwen followed at a more sedate pace, an unnervingly serious frown dominating his long features. He watched as the first Löwen slid something into the cage with the Fuchsbau, crouching down to leer at her through the bars.

“I’m not afraid of you,” the Fuchsbau declared though her scent betrayed her defiance for false bravado.

“Sure you aren’t,” the first Löwen smiled sharply before lunging forward, snapping half-woged jaws threateningly at the bars. He threw his head back and laughed heartily as she flinched violently backwards, almost upending her jail. The Löwen turned to his companion who was now, if possible, frowning even more fiercely than before. “Hey, George I think we should throw this one in with the Blutbad we got today. How long do you think she’ll last?”

“Nicholas, we’re not down here to taunt them. We’re supposed to give them water and leave. If we stay down here too long _she’ll_ start to get impatient.”

“I was just having some fun, jeez. They’re just so easy to mess with,” Nick snickered to himself as he moved on to place what appeared to be a small bowl of water into the Eisbiber’s cage now. The young man released a violent noise and woged, scrabbling at the wall through his bars.

“Just cut it out and do your job will you?”

“I can do both,” Nick sneered as he crouched in front of Roddy’s cage, his eyes still fixed on his companion. Roddy kept his eyes trained on the murky water sloshing over the edge of the unwashed bowl and couldn’t help curling his lip in distaste. Even his rats wouldn’t want to drink that. “Would you look at that; George this one isn’t scared.”

Roddy stiffened at these words, not daring to look up; he already knew they were talking about him. He could sense it the moment the Löwen woged, hoping to provoke some sort of reaction from him but he tamped down on the urge to respond. If he let himself panic now he’d never calm down and he’d never be able to concentrate long enough to formulate a plan. Stay calm; that’s all he needed to do now – block out his surroundings and calm down.

Something about the Löwen’s taunt to the Fuchsbau was resonating with some long buried memory in Roddy if only he could remember what it – Monroe! After Roddy’s unofficial “arrest” by the Grimm cop, Roddy and Monroe had kept in touch as a part of the Grimm’s conditions for letting Roddy go. If he met with Monroe at least once every two weeks he would be allowed to roam Portland unchecked however, if he failed to report to the Blutbad, the Grimm would show up at his door and this time without a badge. It had already been a week and a half since the last time Roddy visited Monroe and, with any luck, their next meeting day had come and gone and the dutiful Blutbad should have reported his failure to show up. If the Grimm found out he was missing, as a cop, there should be somebody out looking for him any minute now.

_What—_

The thought flitted through his head for all of a second before he was thrown forward by a jolt of something. His entire body seized and it felt like his every muscle was attempting simultaneous contraction, as though all his limbs were being suddenly straightened then snapped back into position. When the sensation finally stopped he thought he heard someone sobbing and he could feel a woge slipping away with the current. It took him a moment but, as he recovered, he realized the harsh noises he was hearing weren’t sobs but laughter wheezing out from somewhere beyond the cage.

 _Fucking Löwen_.

Nick was practically roaring with laughter as he held a metal rod in his hand, the ends sparking with electricity. His partner, George’s, face was pulled into a tight, disapproving expression as he glanced between Nick and the doorway behind them.

“You aren’t supposed to be hurting any of them.”

“That was one of the funniest things I’ve seen all day. I mean, Alexander told me he unloaded a Reinigen from the truck but that – that was good.”

Their words seemed to be overlaid by a muffled sort of humming noise as Roddy curled into a tighter ball where he’d fallen during his apparent stint of electrocution.

 _Even if we’re not fed to the other Wesen this one’s games might kill us anyway_.

“And just what do you boys think you are doing?”

The air itself seemed to go cold as a new, distinctly female and definitely irritated voice sliced the room’s occupants to their cores. Roddy could clearly hear the clicking of heels against the pavement, partially woged as he was, drawing closer with every passing moment. “Well, boys? George? Nicholas?”

“Well you see, Cleo—”

“Were you electrocuting that Reinigen after I specifically told you to leave these Wesen alone? You’re not supposed to do anything with them until it’s time to move them in with the others. I would hate to hear you were disobeying me this soon into the operation.”

“I told him not to. I told him what we’re supposed to be doing,” George offered.

“Well, Nicholas. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“It was just some fun. I was trying to get them excited for what’s waiting for them but this one,” he tapped his metal pole against the cage, “this one wouldn’t even flinch for me.”

There was a low snarl as the female Löwen, Cleo’s, scent flared out signaling a warning woge. Roddy could practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as the heels clicked closer than before. “Reinigen, what’s your name?”

Roddy shuddered but remained resolutely silent, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t actually expecting him to answer her. The cage rattled and Roddy rolled over in alarm as Cleo snarled again. She had cold, golden-brown eyes and broad features as she glared down at him, an unsettling expression of curiosity on her face. They stared at each other for one ominous moment before she turned back to the younger Löwen behind her. “Useless as you are, Nicholas, you might be right about this one. He could make things interesting later – if he survives the next phase anyway.” She turned back, realizing Roddy’s attention was still focused on her. “Think you can find your tongue this time Reinigen?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to gather enough moisture to form a response but nothing was forthcoming. He resisted the urge to woge as Cleo’s eyes flashed Löwen gold and the corner of her mouth turned down in a slight frown. “Where’s your voice rat? I asked you a question and I expect an answer.”

Roddy continued staring at her from his spot, paralyzed and kneeling on the hard metal bottom of the cage. Cleo sighed heavily in disappointment before straightening up and stepping away from her captive. She gave a curt nod to Nicholas who eagerly strode forward to take her place. In one swift move he reached in with clawed hands, grabbing Roddy and dragging him forward in a flurry of snarling and flailing limbs. He yanked Roddy’s right arm forward, holding it outside the safety of his metal confines and slamming it roughly against the floor.

“I’ll only ask you one more time. You know the question.”

“I – I—”

There was a horrifying beat of silence as he and Cleo stared into each other’s eyes before she made a disapproving sound behind her teeth.

“I don’t have time for this. It seems you won’t be so interesting after all,” she turned away towards the stairs, clicking away with long, steady strides. “Nicholas, take care of him. Just don’t overdo it.”

“You really did it now, Reinigen,” Nicholas laughed heartily while George looked on with impassive eyes. Suddenly, a heavy boot came down on him and Roddy screamed in pain as it ground his hand down into the concrete until a sickening crunch rang through the basement, audible even through Roddy’s raw screaming. “That should take care of you. You won’t have to worry about what comes after this next phase after all.”

Roddy didn’t feel the tears streaming down his face nor did he hear the heavy steps of the other Löwen as they departed after Cleo. He could hear the Eisbiber across from him asking increasingly frantic questions, though what they were he couldn’t say, and the girl and the Mauzhertz on either side of him shrieking hysterically. Whatever was happening next, the Löwen weren’t expecting any of them to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and edited chapters 1-6 for easier reading since I cringed going back over what I'd previously published.


	3. Chapter Three

 

_R_ _oddy didn’t feel the tears streaming down his face nor did he hear the heavy steps of the other Löwen as they departed after Cleo. He could hear the Eisbiber across from him asking increasingly frantic questions, though what they were he couldn’t say, and the girl and the Mauzhertz on either side of him shrieking hysterically. Whatever was happening next, the Löwen weren’t expecting any of them to survive._

Roddy couldn’t tell how long he lay there buffeted between darkness and pain, his arm stretched outside the boundary of his cage as though laid bare for crucifixion. The cool dampness of the stone beneath him was both refreshing and maddening, as he smelt dirt and blood in equal parts with each shallow, shuttered breath.

“Hey, man.”

The voice was coming from the Eisbiber across from him but Roddy blocked him out, swallowing down the acid that had been bubbling in his throat since he first woke in the trailer – how long ago was it? Minutes? Hours? Days? He didn’t know and as the cold cement leeched the warmth from his body, he didn’t care.

“Aw c’mon don’t die on us yet. You seem like you might be halfway useful Reinigen.”

That would be the Fuchsbau.

“Please answer me. What’s your name? Mine’s Cory. There, now you have to wake up and tell me,” the Eisbiber (Cory, he dimly registered) tried rousing him again. Roddy’s eyes flickered up to lock with Cory’s teary brown gaze. “See, I knew you were listening. What’s your name?”

“Roddy.” The words were painful coming up but he was grateful to at least briefly produce a noise that wasn’t animal pain. “My name’s Roddy.”

“Roddy the Rat. Creative,” the Fuchsbau snorted though her disdainful tone was betrayed by the way she leaned toward him in her cage.

“What’s your name then?” Cory asked her gently even as his eyes stayed focused on Roddy.

“Talia.”

Cory didn’t even attempt to address the Mauzhertz as it seemed he had promptly fainted at the sight of Roddy’s still and, apparently, lifeless body. The girl on Roddy’s other side had resumed her muttering, already retreated deep into the recesses of her own mind.

“I’m Devon,” the Willahara offered even though his voice was far from steady.

“Good. Roddy, do you think you could pull your arm back into the cage?” Roddy snorted at the thinly veiled panic in the Eisbiber’s tone. It seemed he’d reached the same conclusions as Roddy but, unlike the Mauzhertz or the unidentified girl beside him, he’d also realized that blind panic would do him no good.

“C’mon Reinigen,” the Fuchsbau goaded even as she glanced knowingly at Cory. “If you leave it hanging out there like that they’ll make it worse than it already is when they come back.”

_I don’t know how it could be much worse._

Instead of voicing his thoughts he managed to wheeze out a feeble protestation at being called Reinigen before moving to drag his arm back towards his body. He flinched violently and another wave of nausea briefly robbed him of movement as stone scraped against where the bones shifted unnaturally in his hand.

“If you give up now you may as well stay like that and die,” Talia reminded him none too gently. “Then you really will be as useless as I initially thought.”

“Talia,” Cory chided half-heartedly. “You can do it Roddy. I know it hurts – I broke my arm just last year but, I also know you can do it.”

Instead of moving slowly Roddy gathered himself before yanking his arm suddenly between the bars and back towards his own body. He gave a brief shout as his hand attempted to curl in response to the pain but the resulting flash of agony made him straighten it out again.

“That’s…that’s right,” Devon quavered. “My mom…my mom’s a doctor. If you don’t reset your hand properly it won’t heal right.”

“Good thing it’s only my right hand,” Roddy rasped sarcastically as his body instinctively curved to shelter his injured limb from sight.

“Of course you’re a southpaw,” Talia quipped, a sardonic smile curling her pointed face. “Just full of surprises aren’t ya?”

Roddy closed his eyes to block out the rest of their conversation, the roaring in his limbs fading to an insistent thrum behind his eyelids.

“Hey Roddy?”

He cracked one eye open, swallowing the dry feeling in his throat as this time Devon pressed forward to address him. “Listen, you need to try and drink some water. You sound pretty dry and things will get a lot worse if you’re dehydrated.”

_You should be worrying about yourself._

Still, he couldn’t really bring himself to be annoyed by the (Younger? Older?) boy’s concern and grudgingly lifted his head, his injured hand still tucked safely underneath him, to tip the water dish towards his face. Normally it would have been humiliating, drinking from a dish like an animal, but he couldn’t care less the moment the first mouthfuls of water eased down his sandpaper throat.

“Not too much or too fast,” Devon reminded him, all of them actually – Roddy realized as his gaze shifted briefly towards Talia and Cory. “That should be good for now. Do…do you think it’s safe to get some sleep?”

“I’ll stay up,” Roddy found himself offering even as his body protested, every muscle screaming for the blessed numbness of sleep. “I think,” he licked his cracked lips and shifted slightly so he was laying more on his back now, “I think I have a concussion from the journey here.”

“You can’t stay up on your own,” Talia rolled her eyes and shifted to she was almost touching Cory through the bars now. “I’ll keep watch and make sure you don’t, y’know, die in your sleep anyway.”

“Thanks so much,” Roddy retorted with much less bite than intended. He wasn’t quite feeling up to his full sarcastic potential just yet but he had a feeling, if he was given time to recover, he’d back up soon.

“Mhm,” her mouth twitched again as if to smile before her mask of indifference settled back into place. “You’ll thank me when you wake up.” He didn’t have the energy to respond as his heavy eyes finally closed.

* * *

Every hour or so Roddy found himself being shouted awake by Talia, Cory or Devon; it seemed none of the others had been able to sleep either. Any further attempt to talk to the Mauzhertz was usually met with garbled noises or panicked responses spoken so quickly they were nearly impossible to decipher. Still, in his snatches of awareness, Roddy learned more about his unfortunate roommates. Talia was a senior in high school and had snuck out with her Fuchsbau boyfriend, Kevin, when she was captured. By the time she’d woken up in a cage Kevin was nowhere to be found – this declaration was met with appropriately somber silence as her audience reached the same conclusion she had; Kevin was probably already dead. Cory was the middle child of seven Eisbiber children and was supposed to be heading off to college in fall. His siblings were named Lena, Isaac, Patrick, Grace, Zack and Hannah in order from oldest to youngest. Devon had no siblings and was the child of a widowed Willahara woman – his human father had been killed in her place, mistaken for a Willahara as well. Roddy didn’t actively participate in these conversations – they felt too much like eulogies offered in desperation for remembrance and the half-hearted hope that at least one of them would survive this. Hearing Talia’s story told in sarcastic anecdotes and barely concealed affection, listening to Cory’s soft but quick words and Devon’s cracking pubescent tones Roddy entertained the fleeting notion that perhaps, if they had met any other way, he could have been friends with these Wesen.

Eventually, their tentative peace came to an end and Talia, who had been regaling them with the tale of how she and Kevin had snuck out (again) to go to a DJ Retchid Kat rave, went silent as the door to the basement was flung open with a triumphant bark of laughter.

“No cops; no reports; no trace left behind! I hope you all enjoyed your stay down here but the I’m afraid the big night has arrived!” Nicholas’ voice reached them even before the arrogant young Löwen strode into view. He stopped in front of Roddy’s cage and with a low, impressed whistle, rapped his knuckles on the metal as casually as if he were knocking on a hotel door. “Eh, you actually made it through?” He twisted around to yell at George who was trailing behind him with the same resigned expression as previously. “Hey George, tell Luca I want this one in with number six, okay? Special treatment for my favorite Reinigen, yeah.”

“Tell him yourself,” George answered smoothly even as two more Löwen drifted in behind him.

Nicholas frowned for a moment before throwing his arm around the taller Löwen and squeezing his face into a forced smile. “You’re just no fun today George – where’s that charming smile?”

“Get off me,” George grumbled, the slightest line creasing his forehead as he evaded his companion. Roddy watched with mounting apprehension as the two Löwen who’d entered behind George immediately picked up the mumbling girl’s cage and carted her up the stairs and out of sight. “We have orders, let’s just follow them before you get us into anymore trouble.”

“Spoilsport. Alright then, help me get the vixen. The Reinigen goes last. I want to watch what happens to him.”

Roddy glimpsed Cory brushing against Talia in the heartbeat before she was lifted off the ground, her eyes fixed defiantly ahead of her even as Nicholas gleefully informed her how he “wishes he could enjoy watching her too”. _She’ll be okay_. Roddy wasn’t normally one for lying to himself but, as he watched her ascend the stairs, he couldn’t help but allow this one false comfort. _She’ll be okay. She won’t go down easily_.

One by one the others were taken away: Cory, Devon and the Mauzhertz. Roddy was proud to say that not one of them broke down even as their fear radiated palpably from them. _They’ll be okay_.

Then Nicholas came for him.

“Alrighty Reinigen, you’re the only one left. You’re about to find out what’s behind the curtain.” Roddy had forced himself into a sitting position while he watched the others be hauled to their shared fate – wanting to look his captors in the eye as they carted him off to his demise. Now he stared dead into those cruel depths, his mouth sealed tightly in protest as he registered the disorienting weightlessness of being lifted off the ground. “Still haven’t learned anything, eh? Hey, how’s your hand feeling?”

It had ballooned up as time passed and violent bruises discolored the skin as it stretched too tight over his hastily set bones (Roddy had cracked them back into place under Devon’s careful instruction – he’d nearly bitten through his own tongue in an effort to stifle as many sounds as possible).

Nicholas continued hurling his barrage of insults and “pondering” on Roddy’s fate (they both knew how things would end) as he was jostled up the stairs into the main barn again. It was night again from what he could see through the windows, their broken glass painted black in an effort to obscure their surroundings from those within. The previously open space was teeming with Löwen and other Wesen in Cleo’s service. They had erected a large metal cage in the center of the space while others painted symbols on the floor, their fingers and brushes glistening brightly from the blinding light hanging over the whole foreboding scene.

 _Löwen games_.

Roddy had heard of the illegal fight rings before, spoken of in hushed whispers by the older Wesen who drank with Roddy’s father at the seedier bars in Portland. He knew they were outlawed most everywhere except certain places in Europe and that Nick had busted one a few years back when they’d taken Monroe captive with the intent of forcing him into the arena.

 _Only predators fight in the Löwen games_.

Prey would die far too easily in the ring so what purpose did the Löwen have with six such Wesen? Unless…Roddy tamped down on the urge to physically react even as a sickening picture painted itself in his mind.

 _There were predators in that trailer too. There were at least nine of us. We’re the first kills_ – _we’re giving them a taste for blood._

No sooner did this revelation gestate in his mind then Nicholas and George dropped him roughly on the ground. This floor was covered in old, crushed hay and dust rose from between the wooden planks. It didn’t hurt as much when Roddy landed though the metal still rattled unforgivingly against his kneecaps. He was slid backward so his cage met another and Roddy struggled to twist around to see his would-be killer.

A Skalengeck spit at him from the other cage, crouched in anticipation, as its blank eyes flickered between the Löwen standing over them and the Reinigen facing him. Roddy turned his furious eyes on Nicholas, determined to show at least this much defiance in the face of his death. His heart is pounded in his ears so he hardly felt the throbbing pain that had plagued him all night. Roddy’s hand was still flattened against his chest as he struggled to crouch so he wouldn’t be caught completely off guard.

“You ready to meet your liberator? I’m sure he’ll make it fast,” Nicholas sneered as he unlatched the lock holding down the front of Roddy’s cage. “Have fun kids.”

With that the two sets of bars separating Roddy and the Skalengeck were lifted and, with a terrifying hiss, it launched itself forward. Roddy woged and released a furious sound as he was carried off his feet and shoved roughly into the iron at his back.

Nicholas’ laughter rang like some cruel bell in his ears as the Skalengeck snapped at his neck, Roddy just barely managing to twist away from each lunge, teeth and fangs grazing dangerously close to his skin. Still, Roddy bared his own teeth at the Skalengeck, sinking them into any flesh he could reach forcing his opponent to momentarily reel back with each successful blow. _I can do this._ Roddy thought fiercely, latching his teeth into the Skalengecks’ hand as it switched to slashing at him desperately. _I won’t die._

Suddenly, the assault abruptly stopped and the body above him seized violently. The Skalengeck’s eyes turned a ghastly white as it shuddered again, rolling off of Roddy with powerful, jerking spasms. White, foaming spit bubbled around its receding fangs as the woge crumbled in the face of what was happening to its host. Roddy’s eyes widened in horror, his body scrambling as far back as possible while the Skalengeck let out horrible choking noises, its hands curling up against its chest.

“Shit, Marcus delivered us an addict. How long has it been here?”

“24 hours, maybe more than that,” George answered, his tone flat even as his eyes watched the proceedings with disturbing interest. “That’s usually when grand mal seizures strike withdrawal patients. He must have been on something strong.”

“Shit. Fuck,” Nicholas turned his furious, blazing eyes on Roddy even as the Reinigen trembled against the walls of his cage, watching as the Skalengeck’s shuddering continued. “This was not supposed to happen. _You_ were supposed to be food by now.”

Roddy flinched back as the metal grate was slid hastily back into place, trapping him in with the still contorting body. George stared down at him, the faintest spark of interest lighting his eyes as Nicholas yelled to someone approaching them.

“Alexander, do you got anyone that hasn’t killed yet?”

“We’ve got a Jägerbar over here. Why, did one of your prey actually manage to survive?”

“Yeah. The Skalengeck was a junkie. Had a fit right in the middle of business.”

“Shit, no kidding? Bring him over here. He’ll be dead by tomorrow night when Cleo gets here. This one’s clean – straight out of high school.”

“C’mon George,” Nicholas snapped, slapping the back of his hand against George’s chest to get his attention. “We’ve got to clean this up before she gets here in the morning.”

Between spitting curses and the scraping of metal on wood they managed to haul both Roddy and the Skalengeck’s now eerily still body down the row of what Roddy vaguely identified as horse stalls to one on the end. Alexander, the older Löwen who’d helped to unload Roddy from the truck the previous night, hastily opened the stall door so Nicholas and George could slide in the cage.

Roddy recoiled against the metal bars behind him as the aforementioned Jägerbar came into view. He was large, taking up a quarter of the much larger cage despite his hunched over position in the far corner. A low warning growl erupted from his throat as his eyes bore holes into the surrounding Löwen – he didn’t so much as glance in Roddy’s direction even as their prisons slammed side-by-side. The smell coming off him was the same mixture of blood and dirt that permeated the rest of this place and his hair was flattened to his head in a wet, sticky clump dangerously close to his temple, no doubt from when the Löwen had struck him during his capture. The dark gray hoodie looked too small for his large shoulders, straining over his back where it stretched taut from his leaned over position. He bared his teeth and the rumbling noise grew louder and he growled in earnest while the locks to one side of his cage were undone.

“Shut up, we’ll feed you in a second,” Nicholas snapped as he repeated the action with Roddy’s cage.

“Reinigen meet Jägerbar. Enjoy.”

The wall slid up again to create a larger space and this time, instead of waiting for the larger Wesen to attack, Roddy was prodded harshly forward by metal rods that, when pulled back, sparked threateningly in his direction. He found himself moving forward before he could even process what he was scrambling towards, his body remembering all too well the feeling of that current coursing through his body and snapping his limbs in a manner eerily similar to the Skalengeck who’s body he was now crawling over.

Metal clanged shut behind him as this time his cage, body and all was dragged out of sight. Nicholas sneered vengefully as the Jägerbar’s growling intensified; its eyes landing on Roddy for the first time since they were forced into each other’s proximities.

“C’mon Jägerbar. I don’t have time to hang around all night. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The bear Wesen was snarling now but even so, he hadn’t budged from his spot in the far corner of the cage. Nicholas frowned, turning to snatch the metal rod from Alexander’s hand. He sparked it threateningly just above the cage bars and the Jägerbar uncurled crouching on the floorboards beneath them. To Roddy’s infinite relief (and horror) his dark eyes were once more fixed on the Löwen. Roddy’s heartbeat escalated as he watched the two predators face off – one waiting for the other to bring about his demise.

“Nicholas, we’re being summoned. Cleo came back and she saw the Skalengeck,” George reappeared, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Fuck,” Nicholas spat, lowering his instruments reluctantly. “I just need a minute with them; five tops.”

“Do you really want to test her on this?” George raised one eyebrow, the most emotion Roddy had seen from him besides annoyance since this whole operation began.

Nicholas snapped his teeth in frustration before waving the sparking rod threateningly at the two caged Wesen. “ _He_ ,” Nicholas growled, gesturing at Roddy, “he better be dead by the time I get back or _you_ ,” now he turned his ire on the Jägerbar who’d already returned to its earlier position now that the imminent threat of electrocution had passed, “you will pay the price. Got it?”

The Jägerbar returned the warning with a low rumble, its eyes tracking both Löwen until they passed too far out of sight. Roddy resolutely kept his eyes fixed on the wall in the front of him, his entire body tensed as he waited for the impact of a much larger body. He may have stood a chance against the Skalengeck but Jägerbar were a different story altogether. They were capable of full woges into the animals they resembled and though their current confines were too small for a full shift his power still dwarfed Roddy’s many times over. He would meet his death but this time he wouldn’t fight it.

Breathless moments passed, the slow sounds of a leak somewhere in the barn marking the passage of time while shifting wings and rats scampering overhead provided an added element to heighten the suspense between them. A sharp pain in his head made Roddy close his eyes and the constant throbbing of his hands reminded him to check and make sure his injury was still properly set after his scuffle with the Skalengeck. He shifted so his hand lay flat in front of him, the muscles screaming in protest as they stretched and strained past broken bones. It was shiny, violet and tight as he surveyed the damage. As far as he could see things were still pretty much lined up but, with his limited medical experience (he’d barely ever gone to the hospital up until this point and, sardonically, he wished he’d broken something before when he was younger so he’d at least have an idea of what to do now) he couldn’t say for sure. He hissed as he brought his arm back up to its previous position, his limb protesting the movement as it was forced to resume the position it’d been holding for so long.

He jumped as the Jägerbar rumbled again at the noise but otherwise made no move to advance towards the Reinigen intruder. Roddy spared a glance towards the other Wesen and noted (with some irritation) that it wasn’t even looking at him. Instead it was staring somewhere at the wall in front of it and kneading a spot over its chest with a large, closed fist. The Jägerbar wasn’t even tensed for a fight, ignoring Roddy’s presence as one might an ant crawling through the grass. _He’s not on guard_ , the thought arrived to Roddy with startling clarity. _If I could strike while he was asleep, I might be able to take him_. _He’s not even paying attention to me_ – _it could work_. Even as these thoughts floated through his mind, a distinct fuzziness permeated his vision. He vaguely registered the sensation as his adrenaline finally wearing thin. The heat in his hand intensified and the throbbing pain that had seemed almost numb before returned. He winced, clenching his teeth and pulling himself up to settle more comfortably against the bars. The Jägerbar let out another warning sound but still resolutely refused to look up.

 _I can do this_ , Roddy thought muzzily, _if I can take him, I could escape_.

All he had to do was wait for the Jägerbar to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been taking so long to do this I just lost inspiration for a while. When I sat down to write this chapter I actually did it the whole way through in one night so I'd say I'm back again! I'm also back to working on my older story This Asymmetrical Love for BlackStar/Death the Kid in Soul Eater so I hope to update for that within the next few days as well. Your love has been wonderful and I hope I can deliver again soon!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of cannibalism in this chapter though none is actually depicted, copious amounts of swearing from one of the characters and bloody descriptions.

 

I can do this _, Roddy thought muzzily,_ if I can take him, I could escape _._

_All he had to do was wait for the Jägerbar to sleep._

 

But the Jägerbar didn’t sleep.

No matter how long Roddy glared at him through barely open eyes the Jägerbar continued staring at the wall in front of him, one hand kneading its chest in a constant motion. A few minutes after Roddy had been dropped into their shared prison – once it was clear the Löwen wouldn’t return for them that night – the Jägerbar had begun muttering under his breath. His voice wasn’t particularly deep or imposing, something that initially surprised Roddy once he realized the growling had (finally) stopped, but there was a definite depth to it that fit the Jägerbar more than the low, rumbling threats he’d been vocalizing earlier. Whatever he was saying, a prayer or plea Roddy couldn’t be sure, was lost to his cellmate in the slow, steady thrum of the stranger’s voice.

Despite their circumstances the Jägerbar seemed distinctly more at ease than the Reinigen. Roddy had slumped down in the time since he first resolved to face his death at the Jägerbar's claws but he’d since grown tired, waiting and watching for any sign of rest from his fellow prisoner. As he sat sentry Roddy took another chance to observe the Jägerbar, or at least what he could see of him in the shadowed half-light of the barn. He wasn’t sure when the Löwen had turned off the harsh overhead lighting that had so far illuminated Roddy’s journey into hell but, it was a relief of his straining eyes.

The Jägerbar’s hair was, unsurprisingly, brown with the barest hint of honey-colored highlights where it wasn’t matted to his face by congealed blood or flattened by his hoodie. His eyes weren’t brown like Roddy had predicted but they shone a color that reminded Roddy of mixing green and blue together while finger-painting in elementary school. The anecdote was severely underwhelming in its description but it was all Roddy’s muddled brain could conjure at that moment. Another feature that captured the Reinigen’s attention were those hands—larger than Roddy’s by far and no doubt big enough to wrap around his arms (or throat) without strain. _They’re more like paws_ , Roddy snickered at the thought, causing those mixed-up eyes to flicker in his direction. The mumbled string of words cut off abruptly and another low growl rumbled through the space between them.

“You know, if you’re going to kill me you may as well just get it over with. I won’t exactly put up much of a fight.” Roddy didn’t know why he’d said those words yet a twisted feeling of relief washed over him as he spoke. He stared resignedly into the other Wesen’s eyes in the resulting silence, rolling his head to the side and stretching out his neck as though in offering.

“I’m not a killer,” the Jägerbar finally answered him. Well, more like snarled but Roddy wasn’t exactly about to nitpick his soon-to-be murderer’s manners here. A disbelieving snort escaped the Reinigen even as some lizard part of his brain reminded him that Monroe had never killed anyone (that he knew of) and he was Blutbad. Still, Jägerbar weren’t Blutbaden and where Monroe had reformed through years of therapy and regimented training this was a young Jägerbar fresh from capture; who knew what he was capable of yet? “I’m not a killer,” the Jägerbar reiterated his words vehemently though he was careful not to let his voice rise. His body language betrayed his irritation at Roddy’s skepticism if the tight set of his shoulders and the thin line of his mouth was anything to go by.

“Fine,” Roddy held his good hand up in supplication as he finally allowed himself to slide all the way down the bars to rest against the floor of the cage. “You’re not a killer, I’m sorry for impugning your honor.”

The Jägerbar wrinkled his nose but otherwise no more threatening noises rumbled in Roddy’s direction. Another beat of silence passed between them and those not quite green eyes shifted gradually from the Reinigen’s prone form.

“You know,” Roddy interrupted the silence, his words slightly slurred as he wiggled into a more comfortable position, “you may not be a killer but _they_ are.” He punctuated his statement by jerking his head at the ceiling in an attempt to indicate the Löwen who’d stood over them some time before. “They’re expecting me dead; especially the ugly one. If you don’t deliver, then they’ll probably kill you too.”

“I’m not—”

“A killer. I know.” His fatigue must have been making him brave. Normally Roddy wouldn’t say two words to stranger let alone a predator – let alone a predator explicitly instructed to kill him in the next 24-hours. Letting his limbs relax Roddy finally surrendered himself to sleep – if the Jägerbar did change his mind in the middle of the night (day? God he wished he could see out a window) he didn’t want to be awake for it.

* * *

The next time Roddy woke it wasn’t to a heavy paw descending on his windpipe like he’d expected or even a jolt of electricity running through him as he’d dreamed. Instead what roused him, drudging him from the depths of adrenaline-induced sleep, was the next best thing – the colorful cursing of Nicholas’ scratched voice booming down at him from behind a blinding light.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! The little shit’s still alive! Not even a fucking scratch – first we get the junkie Skalengeck and now a Jägerbar that won’t fight? What’s wrong with you? If Marcus gave us a fucking pacifist I’ll go back to Portland and kill that asshole myself.”

“We need to report this to Cleo and ask her how it affects the plan.” So George was with him again. Were they brothers or something? The two never seemed to be apart.

“Fuck the plan and fuck that bitch! If Leo were still alive then we wouldn’t even have to go through all this bullshit! Now we just get whatever Marcus snags and answer to a bitch who isn’t even part of our pride!”

“Watch your mouth. You’ll get us both thrown in the ring if you keep carrying on like that. Listen – you’re going to retrieve her so she can see this for herself.”

“You get her yourself!”

“I can’t trust you not to do anything…irrational. Get her then come back. I’ll make sure nothing changes in the meantime.” There was a terrifying moment of charged silence between the two before Nicholas’ snarling could be heard receding into what Roddy assumed was the main area of the barn. Roddy squinted up as shrewd, ice blue eyes stared back at him through the top of the cage. “You’re quite the trouble-maker aren’t you rat?” His tone held a note of barely amused curiosity as he studied the prone Wesen below.

Roddy tried to picture himself through the Löwen’s eyes to avoid thinking too hard on the predatory element in his gaze. Roddy’s clothes were in relatively okay shape it having been only a few days with minimal exposure to the elements on his part since his abduction. He was in fitted black jeans and a pair of converse he’d bought from a thrift store on Glisan Street. His beanie was gone – no doubt knocked off sometime during the scuffle that landed him here – a grey cotton short sleeve t-shirt and a worn down hoodie he’d claimed from the lost-and-found at school. There were scratches and bruises marring his face, neck and arms and the blood was beginning to crust uncomfortably on his skin. His hand was swollen, purple and shiny where it was broken and his hair was beginning to matt uncomfortably at the back of his head. Overall he’d still say he was in better shape than the Jägerbar though.

Speaking of – he turned his gaze on the other Wesen noting that though no primal growls emanated from him the scent of aggression was rolling off him in waves causing the skin on Roddy’s arms to crawl in discomfort. Right, the predator who was supposed to have eaten him before the Löwen returned. _Wonder if he’s reconsidering that “no killing” thing yet?_

“You weren’t lying to me. The rat is still alive,” Cleo’s voice entered into Roddy’s awareness with all the grace of a far-off roll of thunder. “You know,” her voice adopted an edge of ironic amusement, “if you hadn’t been so insistent that the Reinigen be eaten by a Skalengeck, the Drang-Zorn would have taken care of him in an instant.”

Nicholas didn’t need to respond for Roddy to picture the furious, half-snarl twisting his features at the chastisement.

“What do you want us to do with him?” George asked dutifully, still staring down into their cage. “Should we move him in with another predator or should we make the Jägerbar kill him outright?”

“No,” she answered after a moment of consideration. Suddenly, George’s visage retreated only to be replaced by golden-brown eyes brimming with cruel amusement. “No, I knew there was something special about this Reinigen and I was right. It seems to be the will of the Gods that he be allowed to live – for now of course. Our problem lies not with him.” Her focus abruptly shifted, pinning the Jägerbar where he crouched at the far end of cage. “I’m afraid Marcus supplied us with some less than top quality fighters. The Jägerbar will go first tonight; against the Drang-Zorn I think. If he dies, throw her in with the Reinigen and we’ll see if his luck holds.”

“But—” Nicholas’ voice rose briefly in protest before a harsh slap echoed through the space above them.

“I will not have you questioning me again Nicholas. The Jägerbar will be brought to the ring immediately and the Reinigen will remain unharmed for the duration of the fight and however long after he manages to survive. Are we understood?”

“Yes,” George’s voice overlapped Nicholas’ curt reply.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, domina,” Nicholas spat the word contemptuously as though ejecting some foul taste from his mouth.

“Good. I’ll get the crowd ready. I’m afraid they’re in for a quick opening act.” With an air of finality her heels clacked away through the darkness. Nicholas’ furious expression appeared over the edge of the stall as the locks on the cage door were released with practiced hands.

“It’s your lucky day rat. Maybe the Gods are looking out for you now but they can’t be watching all the time,” Nicholas grinned wickedly before stepping aside for George to advance, electric rod in hand. “Now listen, you’re going to scurry to the back and the Jägerbar is going to come forward without a fight otherwise George here has permission to light you both up – within reason of course.”

Roddy exchanged a panicked look with the Jägerbar at the back of the cage. He snarled slightly but his gaze wavered between Roddy and the Löwen outside.

“You heard the boss lady we don’t have all day,” Nicholas thumped George on the back, urging him closer to their captives.

Another look passed between Jägerbar and Reinigen before Roddy carefully maneuvered himself onto his good hand and knees. The Jägerbar growled slightly, a distinct hint of apprehension coloring his scent as he watched Roddy cautiously advance towards him. _Either you go and fight or we both die_. The knowledge filling Roddy’s limbs with lead was no doubt the same as what finally urged the Jägerbar to move forward towards the unlocked grate.

“No sudden movements. You come out slowly and allow Nicholas to cuff you before being escorted to the ring,” George warned as he stepped to the side to slide the side of the cage upward and out of the Jägerbar’s path. The bear Wesen complied, rising stiffly to his feet before standing tensely between the two older, larger Löwen. _He’s just a cub_ , Roddy realized, watching how those wide shoulders seemingly diminished in the presence of the older, bulkier Wesen. The Jägerbar glanced back at Roddy as though reaching for one final connection before the grate clanged shut while Nicholas affixed large, rusted cuffs around the Jägerbar’s wrists.

“Wish him luck Reinigen. You’re both going to need it,” Nicholas called mockingly before yanking the Jägerbar forward roughly as Alexander called out for them to bring out the night’s first combatants. The Jägerbar’s eyes flickered to Roddy again before focusing resolutely straight ahead, an eerie blankness glazing over their surface.

 _The sea_ , Roddy realized, resting his head against the bars behind him. The Jägerbar’s eyes reminded him of the sea.

* * *

Roddy waited once more for death to come. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes yet somehow this time seemed longer than the trailer, the basement and waiting to kill the Jägerbar combined. Fifteen minutes stretched out for hours, then days before the door to the stables burst open with a triumphant yell.

“I was _not_ expecting that!” Alexander’s voice crowed jovially, drowning out the voices of whoever was accompanying him. “I thought for sure he was a goner but suddenly, wham, a full woge and everything. Luca’s gonna pay up big time after that one.” Roddy opened his eyes as that braying voice halted in front of his soon-to-be tomb. “Wake up Reinigen,” Cleo’s voice dispelled any drowsiness that may have remained from his vigil, “It looks like the Gods really do favor you.”

Roddy’s eyes jerked to the figure standing behind her – George and Alexander flanking him on either side. Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there stood the Jägerbar. A vicious slash mark marred the wide bridge of his nose and it looked as though the Drang-Zorn had tried to take a chunk out his right shoulder with her teeth. His sweatshirt was clutched, crumbled but barely stained in one hand exposing the bloodied white Henley he’d been wearing underneath. Worst of all was his arm, gouged deeply and purposefully, the Drang-Zorn’s claw marks overlaying each other as though she’d been determined to take his arm off before the end. Something hollow lingered about his eyes as he stared unseeingly at the ground beneath his feet.

The Reinigen watched warily as the Jägerbar was ordered back into the cage on his knees and he stumbled forward blindly, nearly crashing into the waiting Wesen. Their prison was unceremoniously resealed and the three Löwen retreated to another stall further down the line to retrieve the next combatant. Roddy looked away as this time a young woman with tangled brown hair and red eyes was escorted out next into the ring. She was probably the Blutbad Nicholas had been so eager to introduce Talia to. Abruptly shutting off that train of thought Roddy refocused his attention on the injured Jägerbar still kneeling silently in front of him. A froth of anger bubbled in the Reinigen’s chest as he contemplated the blood splashed across the Jägerbar’s throat and coating his uninjured arm. “I thought you said you weren’t a killer.”

Those tumultuous sea green eyes came suddenly to life as the Jägerbar blinked, registering Roddy’s presence so close to him. Roddy had no doubt he’d heard the acerbic remark but, instead of answering, he merely blinked and shifted to curl around his knees in the corner well away from Roddy.

“Are you going to kill me now that you’ve gotten that out of the way?”

Again there was no response – not even a warning rumble for his troubles as the Jägerbar resumed his earlier actions, words falling in tumbling trails from his barely parted lips and his eyes focusing on some fixed point ahead. Roddy snorted and copied his earlier motion, curling around himself protectively and angling away from the Wesen smelling so strongly of death. An uneasy silence fell over them broken only by the occasional sound of shifting fabric as they each adjusted their positions numbly.

Eventually Alexander returned, a practically gleeful expression on his face as he advanced toward them carrying a heavy sack in one hand and a red plastic container in the other. It smelled vaguely rancid and distinctly like blood. “Alright. Since winners are fed, it looks like you all will have to share tonight’s cut. Bon appetite or whatever.” A thick, raw slab of meat slid menacingly through the bars to land wetly on the dirty floor of the cage. The red jug he tipped over so a rush of water landed sloppily in the dented metal pan Roddy hadn’t noticed lying in the near left corner of the cage. His duty done Alexander returned the way he came, still humming pleasantly under his breath.

Roddy and the Jägerbar stared warily at the raw meat as though expecting it to suddenly stand and advance toward them, demanding to be eaten. Still, despite the blood pooling on its surface and the odor of raw meat wafting from it Roddy couldn’t fight the sudden, violent sound rumbling from his stomach. The Jägerbar’s eyes found him as though searching through a thick fog, watching as the Reinigen slowly uncurled himself from against the wall. Just as he reached out to pick it up, the Jägerbar lashed out knocking back his hand forcibly. “NO!”

“You can’t have the whole thing to yourself,” Roddy snarled back. He was tired, hungry, thirsty, he definitely still had a concussion, his hand was broken and he’d been threatened with death more in the last few hours than in his entire life – he was done. “I’m hungry. That’s all they’re going to give us. I’m eating.”

“Don’t eat that!” The Jägerbar snarled again, this time physically crowding him back against his previous spot at the wall. “Trust me you don’t want to eat that.”

“Why not?”

“It smells, it smells like arena. I think, I think that’s her…the Drang-Zorn…” The Jägerbar held up his clenched, bloodied hand to Roddy’s face – the hand he used to rip out a girl’s throat just moments before. The scent rolling off the steak intensified at the sudden proximity and another wave of nauseated horror swept through him. _That’s the Drang-Zorn. I was about to eat another Wesen._ Roddy met the Jägerbar’s eyes and the look of sad understanding beneath those roiling waves morphed near instantly into concern. “Hey, are you going to be okay?”

Not bothering to answer Roddy lurched forward past him and, with his good hand, grasped the bars at the front of the cage. He didn’t have time to respond to the Jägerbar’s repeated inquiry before he was vomiting. Everything he’d eaten previous to his escape (a double deluxe cheeseburger and a bottle of water) came spewing out onto the wooden planks of the floor and clung to the bars in front of his face in greasy, mocking chunks. His throat burned viciously and, even when there was nothing left in his stomach, his body continued trying to turn itself inside out in an effort to purge the meat he’d almost eaten. Roddy’s eyes burned while another dry heave wracked his body and left him shuddering, nearly leaning into the traces of his sick still clinging stubbornly to the iron around his clenched hand.

“Aw shit, it’s going to smell like vomit in here until one of them feels like cleaning it up,” the Jägerbar’s voice was colored with obvious disgust and he’d retreated once more to the furthest corner.

“Shut up,” Roddy half-heartedly defended himself even as his stomach apparently attempted to burn itself from the inside out. Oh god that felt like something was trying to burst out of his stomach. Reaching out with his shaking hand he made a grab for the water dish, sloshing terribly as he raised it to his trembling lips. The first gulp he used to clean his mouth, spitting at the bars in an attempt to clean off some of the mess. He repeated this with a second, smaller mouthful before sipping from it slowly. Conservative drinks; that’s what Devon had told them to do.

Once he was satisfied the creature from _Alien_ hadn’t somehow managed to nest in his intestines Roddy set the half-filled dish back in its corner before returning to his own. The Jägerbar’s growling started up again as Roddy approached but, just like their first encounter he made no other move to displace the Reinigen. “Shut up will you?” Roddy snapped the command weakly before curling back in on himself.

Maybe the Jägerbar should have just killed him when he’d had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Two in one day. I'm back!


	5. Chapter Five

 

_Maybe the Jägerbar should have just killed him when he had the chance…_

Roddy dreamed while he slept. He was back by the docks in Portland except – he wasn’t either. In front of him a dilapidated barn yawned menacingly, dark holes in its side gaping while cruel eyes glinted at him from the depths beyond. His feet carried him closer despite his mind screaming at him to turn away and run back towards the safety of his trailer that – though he could not see it – he could feel somewhere behind him. Just as he gathered the power to halt his advance, a pair of strong hands gripped his arms and foul breath gusted over his neck and shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere Reinigen,” Nicholas’ low growl promised him in stinking waves.

“The Gods have a plan for you,” Cleo’s voice purred on his other side as he was propelled forward, not by his own power, but by the claws digging into his flesh and lashing at his ankles. A cold breeze rolled out from the endless darkness of the barn as he drew closer. Roddy tried to thrash, to break their grip but no strength came to him and he was buoyed along by his captor’s malicious words and iron hands. “You cannot leave yet…first you must meet your destiny.”

Roddy crossed the threshold and was abruptly released. Spinning around, he realized the entrance back to the docks had been swallowed in shadows and, turning desperately in place, so had everything around him.

“Are you ready?” Cleo’s voice purred out again, this time mixed with George’s almost passive voice. There was a click before suddenly his eyes were blinded with light and the remaining darkness burned away in the onslaught.

Woging in terror, Roddy rolled onto his knees, both arms reflexively stretched out to brace him as he awoke in the Jägerbar’s cage. He hissed, crumbling forward at the pressure on his injured hand so the bottom of the cage dug into his forehead, cooling the throbbing he still felt there. He breathed deeply, taking in the silence with gratitude as he was not quite up to dealing with any loud noises at the present. _Silence?_ Last time Roddy was conscious there’d been a Jägerbar growling lowly at him from the corner of their enclosure. Glancing to the side Roddy noted with a sinking stomach that there was no one else present in the cage. Had Roddy slept the whole day and missed them taking him out to fight? Or perhaps they had taken him just to kill him outright since he wasn’t getting the job done with Roddy? God, this was too much to deal with after waking up.

Rolling so he was curled on his side now, Roddy noticed a pile of dark gray fabric bunched in the corner formerly occupied by his cellmate. The scent of blood clung to its folds but, stronger than that, was the thread of Jägerbar that permeated it down to its fibers. Roddy wriggled forward gradually until he was laying parallel to the hoodie, staring at it as though trying to discern from it the secrets that would allow him to survive this whole ordeal. Well…if he survived that long. _Bears have one of the strongest senses of smell in the animal kingdom._ Roddy recalled the “fun fact” from the back of a Snapple cap Sarah had read to him one day at lunch. It had seemed trivial at the time, another piece of unnecessary information in a world saturated with miscellaneous facts and Roddy had made his opinion more than known before reading his own cap back to her. Now, her voice bounced around his head like a pinball machine, pinging recognition and inspiration in equal parts but never quite landing where it was supposed to.

Scent! That was it! The Jägerbar had tipped further toward the edge whenever Roddy came too close, nothing unusual for a Jägerbar who, when they reached a certain age, tended to live lives geared more toward solitude and security than pack-minded socialization. Maybe…if Roddy smelled more like the other Wesen it would keep him from spontaneously snapping and just killing Roddy to get rid of the intruding scent. Right, it wasn’t Roddy’s most thorough (or even cognizant) plan but anything that put more distance between him and imminent death was better than nothing.

Lifting his head to make sure nobody was watching, Roddy snatched the jacket from its spot and, balling it up in his hands, thoroughly scrubbed it over his face, neck and hands. Exposed skin would hold scent better than the clothing he’d been sitting in for nigh on two (three maybe?) days now. Once he was satisfied the Jägerbar’s scent would be obvious over Roddy’s own strengthening “aroma” he shoved it back into the corner where he’d found it before returning to his original position in the opposite corner. Right, that should make his presence at least a little more tolerable to the Jägerbar when (if) he returned. Or he’d be even angrier that a Reinigen had not only further invaded his territory but then also proceeded to rub its scent all over his clothing…because scenting worked both ways…

“I’m dead,” Roddy wheezed out half-hysterically, realizing the entirety of what he’d just done.

No sooner had this epiphany rooted itself in Roddy’s mind then Alexander made his presence known with another victorious shout. Anticipating another victory from the Jägerbar Roddy scooted to sit by the water dish, seemingly refilled at some point before the Jägerbar had been escorted out to fight, and tried to appear innocent as he sipped delicate mouthfuls in anticipation of a future refill. Just as he’d predicted, Alexander stopped with George in front of Roddy’s cage, the Jägerbar once more standing cuffed between them. His broad face looked drawn in the harsh light and a new darkness lingered about his eyes as he obediently kneeled to crawl back into his prison. From his position Roddy could see the wounds on the Jägerbar’s arm had been scoured over again, his opponent hoping to finish what the Drang-Zorn had started but, judging by the fact Roddy still didn’t have a new cellmate, had been entirely unsuccessful.

The Reinigen fidgeted nervously, hoping the Jägerbar wouldn’t pick up on the scent clinging to his skin yet over the fresh blood floating around them. Wisely, Roddy remained silent until after Alexander left and returned with fresh meat and water. This time, Roddy made no move to the slab of flesh and instead turned towards the Jägerbar, water dish in hand. If the scent the debacle went over as poorly as Roddy predicted it would, it might help to at least try and get on the Jägerbar’s good side first. “Umm, er…”

The Jägerbar’s eyes snapped up to him from where they’d been focused with alarming intensity on his still bleeding wound. Right, ignore the blood Roddy; it’s not yours (yet).

“Those look pretty bad.” Or call direct attention to it. Great. “Here,” slowly and deliberately, Roddy offered the dish to his wounded cellmate. He didn’t think he’d actually seen the Jägerbar take a drink yet. Sea-green eyes stared at him in narrowed disbelief, his eyes flickering none too discretely between his sweatshirt and the Reinigen. He must have caught the scent rising subtly from the exposed skin of Roddy’s wrists but he otherwise made no comment at the gesture. “You could drink it, or you know _not_ lick your own blood. I’m just suggesting.”

Wordlessly, the Jägerbar accepted the dish, his eyes now flickering between Roddy’s wrist and face disbelievingly. Right, so surprised and probably more than a little disgusted but overall no teeth snapping or throat ripping; Roddy was counting this as a success.

* * *

Roddy watched in horrified fascination as the Jägerbar, after slogging down two thirds of their water, proceeded to resume lapping pitifully at his wounded arm and ignoring the rest of his injuries. It was clear the predator didn’t want Roddy’s help but a part of him screamed that proper medical care (or what passed for that under these circumstances) be administered. If the Jägerbar’s wound got infected it was likely he wouldn’t last much longer out in the ring and, watching the pitiful display, Roddy concluded that the longer this Jägerbar survived, the longer he did too.

After having rested for hours and not having had to fight for his life that night, it was no surprise to Roddy when the Jägerbar’s low mumbling eventually tapered off into heavy, rhythmic snoring. Of course the bear would snore. Once he was sure the other was out, Roddy leaned away from his spot to enact his plan: Keep the Jägerbar Long Enough for the Grimm to Find Him. Yeah, he needed a better name for his plan. Still, if the raw flesh on the Jägerbar’s arm was left exposed in these conditions for too long infection was a matter of _when_ not _if_ so cleaning and covering that was the first priority. With this in mind, Roddy stripped off his t-shirt before holding it up and assessing it. The fabric had been stained, frayed and softened over years of use, the damage most prominent near the bottom hem where Roddy had nervously worn holes in it over the years – right, from the bottom then.

Woging so his teeth were sharper, Roddy bit at the fabric until he was able to tear away a decent sized strip from the bottom. By the time he finished it would probably resemble a crop-top more than t-shirt _but_ , he thought sardonically, _maybe I could pull it off_. Armed with his makeshift bandages the Reinigen crept over to the sleeping Jägerbar, the water dish was still sitting by his side. Dipping one of the messier strips in the water in preparation for cleaning the wound, he approached his target hesitantly.

Maybe this was just another monumentally bad idea. The Jägerbar could wake up at any moment to what…the Reinigen he was supposed to kill hovering over him while he was sleeping to clean his wounds? He’d most likely assume Roddy was attempting to off him before his own death regardless of Cleo’s promises. Or, he could let the idiot get infected from licking his own wounds (how stupid could Jägerbar really be?) and then wait for his own demise at the teeth and claws of any number of predatory Wesen. The scenarios ping-ponged in Roddy’s conscious for a moment more before, with a decisive nod, he lowered the cloth to dab gently at the bloody mess of the Jägerbar’s forearm.

He resisted the urge to flinch back as the Jägerbar’s nose wrinkled briefly before relaxing back into the neutrality of sleep. Heavy sleeper – that would make things marginally less dangerous for Roddy then. Methodically and purposefully Roddy worked to clean away the worst of the blood and reveal the full scope of the wound. Once the gruesome badge was revealed in its entirety and the bandage had been crudely rinsed with a few splashes of water, Roddy slipped the fabric through the bars overhead so it could dry properly away from the dirt of the floor underneath them. Now he just had to find a way to move the arm from its position, tucked as it was partially under the other arm so they loosely hugged the Jägerbar’s knees, without poking the literal bear (well waking since technically he’d already more than poked him).

As he finally managed to establish a grip firm enough to dislodge the injured limb three things happened. One: the Jägerbar woke with an explosive snarl, lunging towards Roddy and knocking him off balance. Two: one of those thick hands wrapped itself effortlessly around Roddy’s throat, effectively pinning him under his attacker. Three: Roddy’s broken hand was pinned in a grip so tight it made stars explode behind his eyes, the pain momentarily overriding the protesting throbbing in the back of his skull where it had made its acquaintance with the ground.

“What are doing?” The Jägerbar’s voiced dropped in timbre as he snarled and leaned close to Roddy’s face so the Reinigen couldn’t look anywhere but into furious not quite green eyes.

After the initial panic subsided and his woge (God, he hated Reinigen fear responses) receded his fear was tempered by a hysterical surge of righteous indignation. Instead of answering, Roddy used his free hand to pointedly grip the arm currently bruising his throat. Scowl deepening, the Jägerbar loosened his hold just enough for Roddy to suck in a few gulps of air. “I was helping you idiot,” Roddy returned the scowl, his face scrunching further at the pain radiating from his hand. “Let go of my hand before you do anymore damage.”

Something undeterminable flitted across the Jägerbar’s expression before he, surprisingly, acquiesced to the Reinigen’s demand. “Okay. Now talk – and just because you happen to smell a little like me doesn’t mean I won’t decide to actually kill you like they want.”

“I was cleaning out your wound,” Roddy grit out. “The way you left it you would’ve gotten infected and then we’d both be dead.”

The Jägerbar’s eyes narrowed as he considered these words before widening again in realization. Roddy snorted impatiently as the Jägerbar put together the puzzle Roddy had figured out ages ago; their lives were tied together from the moment Cleo decided to play her games. Just when Roddy thought he’d finally be able to talk sensibly with the beast the frown lines returned and he was once more pinned, this time by the Jägerbar’s gaze. “That doesn’t mean you can sneak up on me in my sleep.”

“Would you have let me help you if you were awake?” Roddy shot back, attempting to relax his body in a parody of submission so the Jägerbar would get the message and get off him already. “Here’s the answer: no.” The Jägerbar snarled again but his grip was almost nonexistent now as he leveraged himself to sit up, not realizing this now positioned him as straddling Roddy instead of just keeping him down. Another awkward beat of silence before Roddy hissed, “could you get off me already?”

In a flash the Jägerbar was back to his former position, his eyes no longer accusatory but a definite glint of distrust lingered in their depths. “Whatever Reinigen. Just don’t sneak up on me again.”

“Roddy,” he finally snapped. “My name is Roddy not Reinigen. Remember that.”

The Jägerbar snorted dismissively before settling in as he watched Roddy through half-closed eyes. Curling his lip in irritation, Roddy scuffled back to his own designated corner, curling over his newly throbbing hand protectively and glaring disdainfully at his only hope for survival.

Right, they just had to last until Nick or Monroe could get to them; wherever they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll get another chapter up today too. Thanks for sticking with me everyone.


	6. Chapter Six

 

_Right, they just had to last until Nick or Monroe could get to them; wherever they were._

 

By morning a noticeable bruise was coloring the skin around Roddy’s throat, bright red when he’d finally fallen asleep, was already transitioning to a deep purple in the harsh overhead light. Thankfully, the edges were already fading to the yellowish-green that signaled early healing so the damage wasn’t too extensive. He’d caught the Jägerbar staring at it when he woke, the barest hint of guilt causing the sea in his eyes to darken and storm. Roddy’s head didn’t throb as insistently as the last few times he’d woken but it persisted as a low, dull ache near the base of his skull. His hand was in the same condition as before though it felt distinctly stiff and cramped after being held, as much as Roddy could without a proper splint or brace, in the same position for well over forty-eight hours. Despite the extreme discomfort, Roddy didn’t dare disturb it lest he cause even greater damage than Nicholas and the Jägerbar had already caused.

Speaking of, the Jägerbar was no friendlier towards him today than any other day though, instead of muttering endlessly at the wall as he’d done before, his eyes stayed riveted to Roddy cataloguing every movement and sound as he assessed his cellmate. Roddy didn’t exactly mind the newfound stand-off but he had to admit, the sudden scrutiny was fast wearing on his already frayed nerves. Sometime during the day (or night) someone had gotten around to cleaning away Roddy’s sick from two nights previous and Alexander had stopped scrunching his nose in distaste every time he visited their cage with food and water. Thankfully, if the insistent growling of his empty stomach was any indication, he didn’t have much in him so there was little to no chance of repeating the episode.

Roddy winced as another hacking fit wracked his body and left him feeling lightheaded. Alexander had laughed raucously that morning when he saw the dark spot over Roddy’s throat and enthusiastically beckoned George and Nicholas over to see as well. A sickly light of satisfaction entered Nicholas’ eye as he took in the Jägerbar snarling up at them and the Reinigen huddled at the opposite end of their cage. “Looks like you’re finally wearing out your welcome rat.” The words were positively gleeful in comparison to his usual low, threatening growls when he’d passed their stall and saw Roddy’s previously unmarred appearance. It seemed the Löwen’s mood was directly related to the injuries visible on Roddy’s person and the Reinigen concluded that, just as much as they were betting on the Jägerbar falling in the ring eventually so too were they hoping he’d eventually tire of his cellmate and kill the Reinigen out of convenience.

The dread that had sat heavily in Roddy’s stomach since he’d awoken in the trailer grew with every passing day and, when that night Alexander and George didn’t appear to escort the Jägerbar out to the ring that feeling compounded into an unbearable weight. They were planning something and, whatever it was, it could only mean terrible things for Jägerbar and Reinigen alike. “You should’ve just killed me earlier you know,” Roddy croaked after the Blutbad was escorted out to fight. It was only the second time Roddy had seen her stalk past their cage. “If you’d killed me then they wouldn’t fight you as much as they do now.” This time the Jägerbar didn’t respond – the words “I’m not a killer” didn’t hold much meaning anymore, not with dried blood staining his clothes or the haunted look in his eyes. “I would’ve done it, if I were you,” Roddy wasn’t sure whom he was talking to anymore – probably himself if the way the words left his mouth in tones barely louder than a whisper was any indication. “If I had the strength, I’d save myself.”

Roddy shivered and drew his arms tighter around himself. He’d forgone his shredded t-shirt, opting instead to zip his hoodie all the way over his bare chest instead. It wasn’t terribly cold out, it still being summer and all, but the drafty barn wasn’t exactly the warmest of places regardless of whether or not the sun was up. He fell asleep like that again, a foreboding silence smothering their breaths in the earliest reaches of the morning, locked away where the light wouldn’t reach them.

The next night, the Jägerbar was called out to fight and some of the tension knotting Roddy’s stomach lessened as a now-familiar feeling of resignation washed over him. Whether he lived or died now, it was out of his hands; it all depended on who was standing outside his cage at the end of the fight. He closed his eyes, letting the pounding of his headache wash over him and distract him from thinking too hard about what was about to happen next. Half-formed thoughts, blurred images and snippets of the concerto he’d been independently practicing, drifted in and out of the forefront, never lingering too long but concrete enough to hold his attention for a moment. He was halfway through _Danse Macabre_ when Alexander’s voice interrupted him. Immediately Roddy’s eyes opened wide in alarm; that was much faster than the Jägerbar’s last two fights.

“Listen, I appreciate the quick kills, I really do believe me, but unless you put on more of a show next time Cleo’s going to start taking _special interest_ in you and, between us, that won’t mean anything good.”

A heavy silence met those words as the clanking of metal cuffs signaled approaching Wesen. Roddy held his breath as George traipsed into view, metal prod held loosely in his hand and a look of deep contemplation on his face as he stared at the Reinigen. Roddy’s eyes flickered behind him causing the Löwen to raise one eyebrow, whether in amusement or curiosity he didn’t bother trying to figure out. Who was Alexander escorting back? Did the Jägerbar kill quickly or was it the Blutbad he’d seen the other night?

Finally, when it felt as if his lungs would burst and spots of color flitted across his vision Alexander’s steps halted. All at once the air escaped Roddy’s lungs as the Jägerbar’s tired eyes bore into his own. The makeshift bandages on his arm were shredded and the wound Roddy had so carefully attended was bleeding once more though, luckily, not as heavily as before. This time, Roddy didn’t wait for the Jägerbar to sleep. As soon as Alexander delivered meat and water he proceeded to systematically shred the remainder of his shirt under his companion’s bleary gaze. Once he was satisfied he’d have enough to rewrap the other’s arm he made to move closer, holding his supplies out in front of himself to appease the Jägerbar’s heightened wariness.

“What are you doing?” that not quite deep voice stopped Roddy momentarily before he advanced forward again.

“Same thing I did yesterday,” Roddy answered truthfully, settling with his legs folded awkwardly in front of him.

The Jägerbar’s eyes brightened slightly as he watched Roddy grab the cloth still hanging from the bar overhead and dip it in the water. Roddy raised his eyebrows at the Jägerbar, silently asking for his arm. Luckily, the Jägerbar actually seemed to understand him this time and, after carefully peeling away the strips of still clinging stubbornly to his wound, offered the injured limb before his expression closed off again. Right, he still thought Roddy was out to kill him for some reason. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes Roddy wrung out the cloth over the bloody mess of the other’s arm before dabbing at it firmly with his makeshift rag. The Jägerbar made no sound as Roddy worked efficiently with his limited supplies. It was unnerving to say the least, those eyes boring into him as Roddy attempted to steady his shaking hands. Shit, not eating for the past seventy-two hours was taking its toll on him and Roddy feared that food wasn’t going to be an option in his near future. Why was it taking so long for the Grimm to find him?

“I think it’s clean,” the Jägerbar’s voice broke Roddy’s trance and he belatedly realized that his hand had been hovering – trembling really – over the other’s arms for the past half-minute.

“Shit,” Roddy grumbled under his breath, rehanging the cloth before reaching for his makeshift bandages. “At this rate I won’t stand a chance if you lose.”

The Jägerbar’s frown deepened before he rumbled out, “Why do you say things like that?”

Roddy glanced up at him, mouth twisting in displeasure at the inquiry.

“I mean,” the Jägerbar’s eyes switched to focusing on the where the Reinigen’s unsteady hands touched his arm, “why do you keep saying you’re going to die? Why do you ask me to kill you?”

Roddy snorted at that before tying off the final strip of his shirt and patting the Jägerbar’s arm perfunctorily. “Why do you think?”

The Jägerbar’s nose scrunched in thought before he replied. “I know I can’t say it anymore but – I may have killed but – you’re not a cruel person so, why do ask me to do it?”

Sharp blue eyes narrowed as Roddy glared up at the other. “How would you know? I killed that Skalengeck,” Roddy bluffed. He didn’t know why he was framing himself as a killer now; maybe to intimidate the Jägerbar into ceasing this line of questioning or maybe, in some twisted way, to comfort him with the knowledge he wasn’t the only one of them with blood on his hands. “I killed four of my classmates using rats. I’m not a good person.” With that said Roddy moved to back away from the Jägerbar but, faster than he could react, a large hand shot out to grip his arm, firmly anchoring him in place.

“You’re lying,” the Jägerbar’s voice was surprisingly gentle but for the serious tone it carried. “I know what that looks like and it’s not in your eyes. It’s in my eyes now, it was in someone close to me but there isn’t anything like that in yours. You’re not—”

“And you just don’t get it do you?” Roddy snapped in desperation. He didn’t need to hear something like this; not here and now in the place where he was going to die. “They want you to kill me, deal or no. It’s not about whether I live or die it’s about you. You kill me and you kill the last thing keeping you human. They want you to kill without remorse; they want to make sure you never trust anyone again – that nobody can touch you without losing their hand or their life. Didn’t you hear? They want you to put on a show.” The vitriolic words spewed from Roddy’s mouth before he processed them and he froze, pale and wheezing for breath with how much he’d expelled.

“You overheard this?” the Jägerbar asked gravely, finally releasing Roddy’s arm so he could curl into himself.

“I figured it out,” Roddy answered sharply.

“Knowing that, what do you want from me?”

The words sunk into Roddy’s mind, weighted down with a thousand and one possibilities but one thought surged to the surface and past his lips before he had time to rein it in. “Your name.”

The Jägerbar blinked, stunned at the simple question floating between them; it had never occurred to the larger Wesen to offer that simple piece of information. Roddy glared up at him hotly in the wake of the Jägerbar’s silence and for a brief moment the Jägerbar felt the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Barry,” he finally answered, “my name is Barry Rabe.”

Roddy couldn’t hold in a hiccough of laughter at the announcement; of all the names in the world this was just ridiculous.

“What?” Barry asked, a hint of amusement coloring his words as well.

“Barry the bear?” Roddy clarified, the corners of his mouth hitching into a borderline-hysterical smile.

“Yeah I know. Bobby?”

“Roddy Geiger,” he automatically corrected him.

This time Barry really did laugh, a deeper sound than his speaking voice by far, inspiring a low chuckle from Roddy as well. “Barry the bear and Roddy the rat?” Roddy shook his head in acknowledgement of the irony before carefully lowering himself to lay on his back, his legs stretching out in front of him so they were braced against the bars next to Barry (it was a surprising relief to be able to refer to him as something other than Jägerbar for a change). Once the laughter died down Barry shifted, turning his body to face Roddy better. “So Roddy, how’d you end up here?”

“They got me at the docks in Portland.”

“Sounds like you were looking for trouble.”

“I was coming out of a rave genius. I don’t hang out there normally.”

“So you’re a dock rat then?” Roddy raised his head slightly to see an amused smirk settling over Barry’s face and he returned the look with one of his own. So that’s how he wanted to play it then?

“Guilty as charged. How’d you end up outside your cave?”

“I snuck out with my friends to get drunk. I got separated from them at some point I guess.”

“You didn’t smell them?”

“The whole scenting thing is only really useful if you’re alert and Jägerbar don’t deal well with alcohol.”

“Weird.”

“Tell me about it. I think I tried to fight a tree.”

Roddy snorted at Barry’s confession, a smile finally overtaking his face at the absurdity of it all. If it weren’t for their location, or the pounding in Roddy’s head, or the throbbing in his hand, or the blood staining the Jägerbar’s shirt – okay if it weren’t for a lot of things, it would almost seem like they were two regular guys having a conversation. The silence that followed was infinitely calmer than its predecessor and an easy sense of camaraderie filled the empty space between them.

“We’ll survive this,” Barry suddenly proclaimed. Roddy glanced up at the tentatively hopeful expression softening the Jägerbar’s face. “I’ll make sure of it.” Oh how Roddy longed to believe him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooaahh! We're half-way there...


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while. For the last two years I've had to take a break from writing for personal reasons but I'm determined to see this one through to the end. To those who are reading this for the first time, welcome. To those who have stuck with me to this update your comments are what really fueled me to come back finish things. I've already begun writing the next few chapters and I'll try to update a chapter a day over the next five days. If I can only do every other day then it'll be over the next ten days either way we're getting it done. Thank you for all your support so far and without further ado here's the chapter you've all been waiting for.

_“We’ll survive this,” Barry suddenly proclaimed. Roddy glanced up at the tentatively hopeful expression softening the Jägerbar’s face. “I’ll make sure of it.” Oh how Roddy longed to believe him…_

 

The next time Roddy woke it was to the feeling of a large hand clamped onto his shoulder and a vague rocking sensation throughout his body. A weak moan escaped the Reinigen as he made an aborted attempt to curl in on himself. His head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and a persistent throbbing was announcing its presence behind his eyelids. Then a voice joined the shaking. It sounded like it was coming from miles away and rolled like soft thunder through his foggy mind.

“Roddy. C’mon you need to wake up.”

Roddy exhaled sharply to convey his annoyance with the bodiless voice.

“Please wake up. You’ve been sleeping way too long.”

What did it mean he’d been sleeping too long? He felt like he’d hardly slept in the days since he’d first been dragged to Hell.

“I didn’t want to do this but…”

Those words pinged some instinctive alarm even through the Reinigen’s sleep-induced haze. He’d barely opened his eyes before a low growl filled the air around him. Jerking violently at the apparent threat to his person Roddy woged, a shrill sound of alarm scraping its way past his parched throat. Strong hands steadied him in his panic and Roddy blinked frantically until a now-familiar pair of sea-green eyes swam into focus.

“Roddy, calm down. I’m sorry. You weren’t waking up and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Wha—?”

Roddy inhaled in short bursts, taking in and parsing the scents around him while his eyes adjusted to being awake. Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. Predator. Jägerbar. No? Not just Jägerbar. Barry. Barry Rabe. Safe.

As though a string had been cut, Roddy slumped slightly forward, still held upright by Barry’s sturdy grip. Shakily, he raised his good hand to press harshly against one tired eye until splotches of color exploded in his vision.

“Barry. Calm down. What’s happening?”

The moment Roddy’s body relaxed, Barry too calmed, the frantic energy fueling his movements slowed to something more grounding for them both.

“You weren’t waking up…” Barry answered plainly, only releasing Roddy once he was sure he wouldn’t topple over and fall asleep again. “You haven’t been eating and you’re injured.”

“Neither have you,” Roddy pointed out while glancing absently at his still-swollen hand, the other coming up to scratch at the flakes of dried blood still matting his hair. “And you’ve been fighting so you’re a lot worse off than me.”

“I’m bigger.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he snorted, rolling his eyes despite the resulting ache in his temples. “You’re still exerting more energy. You’ve been woging just about every night on top of that.”

“Every other night.”

Roddy’s eyes cut sharply to the Jägerbar. Had he really been sleeping so much that he’d missed whole days? It made sense – exhausted, hungry, only drinking water and dealing with improperly addressed injuries. If they weren’t Wesen they’d both have been on the verge of death – if not dead – after the first few nights.

“Right. Every other night…” Roddy mumbled his reluctant agreement.

Barry, though he didn’t strike Roddy as the brightest bulb in the bunch, was observing him much too keenly for the Reinigen’s comfort. Before the Jägerbar could voice whatever thought was forming in his head they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps nearing their cage. Alexander’s dark eyes peered curiously over the lip of the stall and a derisive snort escaped him. Apparently seeing the two of them huddled close together was not what he’d been expecting to find. Roddy met the Löwen’s gaze with his own apprehensive stare. So far Alexander had not proven himself to be nearly as eager for Roddy’s demise as either Nick or Cleo but he’d expressed his amazement at Roddy’s continued survival several times in passing.

“What happened?” George’s tempered, even tone asked from somewhere out of sight.

“Nothing,” Alexander grunted again, leaning one arm on the stall to stare more intently at his captives. His eyes alighted with brief interest on Barry’s makeshift bandages but he otherwise made no further comment. “Whatever it was it’s over. No new scratches on either of them.”

“Nicholas will be disappointed.”

“He could use a little more disappointment in his life. Might humble him a bit,” Alexander grumbled the last sentence too softly for George to hear.

Roddy glanced at Barry to assess the Jägerbar’s mood under this new and abrupt scrutiny. To his immediate surprise it seemed Barry had been gradually shifting closer to him, angling his body between Roddy and the cage door. Alexander raised an eyebrow, either in amusement or confusion Roddy could not tell, before he recaptured the Reinigen’s attention.

“Feeling protective, eh? Cleo thought that might happen. Myself? I thought you’d have eaten him within the first few nights. All the other predators ate theirs y’know.” He sighed, reached into the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out a silver cigarette case. Humming dryly to himself he selected one before returning the case and fishing out a lighter from his pants. “You won’t last long with that attitude though. No sir. The arena is no place to be soft. Only real gladiators make it through.”

Barry’s baritone growl started up again, a low warning hum that seemed to vibrate his whole body.

“Easy now. I’m just speaking truth.” The grizzled Löwen brought his cigarette to his lips again. “Honestly – I like you Jägerbar. You’ve made me a lot of money since you got here. Would hate to lose a sure bet like you but, if you don’t start eating what I give you then the only safe bet will be on you dying.” He flicked his cigarette ash absently towards them, his eyes sliding over Roddy with predatory intent. “And him.”

This time a full-bodied snarl ripped from Barry’s throat and Roddy watched wide-eyed as his fangs elongated and his eyes burned a deep Jägerbar maroon. Alexander’s own eyes flashed Löwen gold and his lip curled in disappointment.

“I was hoping for a different answer but I guess that’s that. Next time, I’m betting on the Höllentier.”

With that final declaration Alexander finally moved on, muttering under his breath as he went. The apprehensive feeling solidified into a ball of pure terror. Höllentier were tough, brutish and part of an ancient, bloody lineage. As soon as their Löwen warden was safely out of earshot Roddy told Barry as much too.

“So are Jägerbar,” Barry answered softly, turning to hide his expression from Roddy. Before the Reinigen could object or read too far into his words, Barry shivered mightily before fixing his cellmate with an intense look. “I promised I’d protect you and I will.”

“You don’t even know me,” Roddy blurted out, the throbbing in his head seemingly impairing his ability to filter his words. “Why do you care so much?”

A frown contorted Barry’s features and a shadow of uncertainty swirled behind his eyes. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his gaze losing focus as he seemed to almost physically search for an answer to Roddy’s sudden outburst. It was a valid question and, now that it was out in the open between them, it gnawed at their nerves just as surely as a rat gnawing on cheese. Before last night they’d barely spoken two words to each other – hell, they’d been resolved to kill each other at the first sign of treachery. How had one conversation and a simple exchange of (admittedly ridiculous) names brought them to point of living and dying by the same sword? To putting their trust in the strength of Barry’s claws and the blood of enemies spilt in their stead?

“I made a promise.”

Roddy gaped at the Jägerbar in open disbelief. Maybe he’d misheard and the lack of food was affecting him more severely than he’d originally suspected. Still, Barry’s gaze was surprisingly vulnerable as he silently pleaded with his ally to accept this simple truth and not push any further.

“It’s a shit deal for you,” Roddy pointed out frankly. He’d given up trying to figure out why he only seemed capable of pointing out things that did no favors for his chances of survival.

“If it keeps us alive.” Barry’s voice was colored with palpable relief at Roddy’s acceptance.

If they – by some miracle – actually managed to make it out of this alive together Roddy would get some real answers out of Barry yet.

* * *

Much to Roddy’s annoyance, Barry refused to let him fall back asleep and kept him awake through a combination of frequent prodding and speculative theories about their captors. Who knew Jägerbar were so damn touchy? Weren’t predators supposed to be stoic loners or something? _Pack-minded socialization_. Right, Roddy swallowed the vague spring of guilt bubbling in his throat. Barry couldn’t be much older than Roddy himself. A high schooler – that’s what Alexander had said when Nicholas asked him if the Jägerbar was a junkie like the Skalengeck. He wouldn’t outgrow his physical and mental need for pack socialization for a few years yet.

“How old are you?” Roddy asked, batting away the Jägerbar’s latest attempt to poke him into a state of awareness.

Barry stumbled over his words, fumbling with his answer before hunching in on himself and fiddling with his hands. “I’m uh – I’m going to be a senior in the fall.”

“I meant a number,” Roddy snorted, crossing his good arm and attempting to wiggle further into the meager warmth provided by his hoodie. “I’m seventeen. I’ll be a senior next fall too,” he added helpfully.

“Eighteen.”

“I can’t hear you when you mumble you know.”

“Eighteen,” he repeated in a distinctly embarrassed tone.

So if he was going to be a senior in the fall…oh. Roddy eyed the Jägerbar attempting to simultaneously puff himself up and shrink away from Roddy’s prospective disapproval. The Reinigen sucked his teeth impatiently at the display. He didn’t do well with comforting people per se. In fact, Sarah had often admonished him for having all the sympathy of a brick and encouraged him to put more effort into understanding other people’s emotions better. Oh sure, Roddy was quite familiar with his own emotions (despite the whole repressing his anger until he snapped and set rats on his classmates thing – in his defense they had tried to frame him for murder so…) but other people’s…yeah, no thank you.

“Cool,” he wrinkled his nose at his own poor attempt to sound casual. “Guess we’re in the same grade then.”

Barry maintained his defensive stance for a moment longer before he visibly deflated, leaning back on his hands and watching Roddy curiously.

“What?” Roddy snapped as this time he reacted.

“You’re not going to ask?”

“Well, do you want me to?”

After a beat of hesitation Barry shook his head, bringing his hand to the back of his head to touch absently at his own crusty mess in a parody of Roddy’s earlier gesture. Suddenly, the Jägerbar’s body stiffened and his eyes flashed as the sounds of Löwen entering for this night’s round of fighting reverberated through the barn. For a moment – just a moment – Roddy had almost been able to ignore where he was, focusing instead on Barry’s not-too-deep voice and turbulent eyes. Watching the emotions flit across the Jägerbar’s face as he pieced together clues about where they were and who might be looking. Roddy didn’t know why he had failed to mention the Grimm and the Blutbad searching for him in Portland. Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he was losing hope they would find him in time and he often thought it would be crueler to share this hope with Barry now that it was fast disappearing.

“Jägerbar you’re up,” Alexander’s announcement resonated like a death knell between them. Something would change after tonight – after the Löwen’s impromptu speech that morning they could both feel _it_ , whatever _it_ was, lingering on the horizon.

* * *

This time when Barry went to fight, Roddy sat and planned. Alexander seemed more than certain that without food Barry was bound to fall in the ring. Tonight, no matter what, he would get Barry to eat even if it meant…

A mixture of horror and disgust wracked the Reinigen as he considered the possibilities available to them. They weren’t given much beyond water and…meat…. Was that really their only option though?

Suddenly, the sounds of scrabbling claws and the ruffle of feathers drew his attention to the rafters above. Maybe…maybe Roddy could lure over the rats that seemed so abundant in the barn? Sing, or more likely hum, to them a little and they’d curl up in the palm of his hand. But could Roddy bring himself to do it? Could he kill one of the creatures that had once so readily placed its trust in him and kept him company on lonely days by the riverbank? His stomach churned again at the reality of what he was considering. Just as he prepared to scrap the plan entirely he pictured Barry’s earnest face in his mind – the conviction of a stranger to keep them both safe (as safe as they could be) and breathing.

It would still be raw meat but at least it wouldn’t be another Wesen let alone one dead by Barry’s own claws.

So Roddy waited…he waited to see if this was even a sacrifice he would have to make; after all if Barry didn’t make it back this time…

He could have gone back to sleep and passed the time in blissful ignorance, waiting to either wake once more or slip into eternal darkness but when he recalled the worry on Barry’s face last time he’d done so. He didn’t want the Jägerbar returning (if he returned) to see Roddy’s prone figure lying there, reminiscent of the body he would be leaving behind in the ring. The Reinigen wanted to laugh hysterically as he realized this routine of waiting – anticipating life and death for what felt like hours on end – had become commonplace to him in the last few days. He was going to need (and probably never receive) a whole lot of therapy after this was over.

* * *

Barry did return that night. Alexander grumbled and cursed about cheating and full woges while Barry swayed unsteadily between him and Nicholas, his eyes still flashing maroon despite the disturbingly lax set to his body. For once Roddy ignored Nicholas’ taunting and George’s analytical gaze – he only had eyes for the Jägerbar and the knowledge of what he was about to propose sitting with dreadful finality in his gut. After the first few fights there was no need to force Barry into the cage; he crawled willingly back into his prison as the iron bars and glaring overhead lights provided him with a greater sense of safety than the blood-stained concrete of the arena. Once more Roddy waited until after Alexander had delivered their usual supplies, slapping the raw slab of Wesen down more harshly than any time before.

Only when he was certain they wouldn’t be interrupted did Roddy move to approach Barry. The Jägerbar’s eyes were vacant (as they always were after a death) but it seemed his bandages were no worse for wear than before he had been led out to fight. Roddy made no move to touch Barry, simply kneeling patiently beside his protector.

“Barry. Are you with me?”

Sea-green eyes turned to stare at him, the Jägerbar’s expression simultaneously open and closed off as though he were only barely allowing himself to believe that Roddy was both real and present. Roddy looked away, licking his dry lips nervously instead.

“Barry. You need to eat something.”

Finally the Jägerbar’s eyes seemed to focus and a thunderous expression rolled over his face. Roddy knew both a question and objection sat on the tip of Barry’s tongue – only his own confusion belaying the utterance of either. Not waiting for him to find his words, Roddy closed his eyes and began humming a familiar, wordless tune. It was the song he’d first used to summon his rats down by the river (maybe Talia had been right and he was a dock rat after all).

“What’re you—”

Roddy silenced the other’s question by leaning against Barry’s arm – the first real physical contact he’d initiated since the night he’d last treated Barry’s wounds. In little to no time a rapid scurrying could be heard and a small, dark shape scurried down the wooden walls before sidling through the bars of their prison. It squeaked a greeting of familiarity and curiosity, sitting on its haunches and swaying contentedly in time to Roddy’s tune. Extending his good hand, Roddy allowed the strange rat to clamber onto his palm, a warm, furry reminder of the weight of his decision. Roddy glanced to Barry who was now watching the proceedings with a mixture of amazement and apprehension. He was probably beginning to guess what Roddy’s initial statement meant.

“Are you sure?” The question came out in a whisper of understanding. He must have an inkling how hard this must be for the Reinigen.

Never breaking his concentration, Roddy nodded sharply in response before switching up the melody he was humming. This one was softer, sweeter and, as intended, the rat in his hands dropped tiredly to all fours. This was the lullaby Roddy used to play when his rats were sick and needed to rest and regain their strength – at least this way it wouldn’t feel any pain when the end came. After about a minute of this the rat’s weight shifted as it dropped into a deep, still sleep.

Roddy stared guiltily at the trusting little life in his hands – the trusting little life that would allow him and Barry to live a few days longer. Silently he offered it up to Barry, a pleading look in his eyes. He could do this much but he couldn’t…

Barry wordlessly accepted the pliant creature, wasting no time in bringing it to his mouth and biting decisively into its neck. There was no need to make it suffer. Thankfully, he didn’t offer the rest to Roddy choosing instead to devour it in a series of quick, efficient bites. Part of Roddy wanted to ask about the taste, the crunch, the blood and the bones but another overwhelming part of him urged him not to think too hard about it. Nothing good could come of it. Still, as Barry used their water to wash down the remains of his meal and cleanse the evidence from his hands and mouth Roddy couldn’t help but wonder if he was doomed to the same fate as that rat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and edited chapters 1-6 for easier reading since I cringed going back over what I'd previously published.
> 
> In case you're wondering, I made Barry 18 instead of 17 because he was forced to repeat a year of school following, y'know, arrest for attempted premeditated murder. It's explained further in the second part of Survive so for now please suspend your disbelief and know that there's more legal stuff involved than I'm getting into right now.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 7 & 8 have been edited. Chapter 9 & 10 on the way some time late tonight or tomorrow.

_Barry wordlessly accepted the pliant creature, wasting no time in bringing it to his mouth and biting decisively into its neck. There was no need to make it suffer. Thankfully, he didn’t offer the rest to Roddy choosing instead to devour it in a series of quick, efficient bites. Part of Roddy wanted to ask about the taste, the crunch, the blood and the bones but another overwhelming part of him urged him not to think too hard about it. Nothing good could come of it. Still, as Barry used their water to wash down the remains of his meal and cleanse the evidence from his hands and mouth Roddy couldn’t help but wonder if he was doomed to the same fate as that rat._

 

Heat and darkness. Heat, darkness and silence. That’s all Roddy knew as he drifted fitfully in and out of sleep. He only knew he’d awoken by the large, warm hands flitting with an almost fearful tenderness over his face and the soft thunderous roll of a familiar voice. How long had he been out for this time? He knew abstractly that it had to have been at least a day – Barry had told him how long he’d been sleeping even before he felt like his body was on fire and his limbs were screaming with an ache more intense than what he’d been feeling after his initial kidnapping.

After feeding Barry the previous night Roddy had secured him two more rats, each devoured with the same decisive and merciful swiftness of the first. Initially he’d feared eating too much too soon would simply make Barry ill, further weakening on top of his injuries but the Jägerbar had solemnly assured Roddy that he was built to for consuming much larger quantities at a time. Then they’d fallen into another bout of exchanging questions and dodging answers until Roddy had been unable to keep his eyes open any longer. Why had it been such a bad idea to let him sleep again?

Another bolt of pain stabbed through him and he groaned. Right, because apparently he’d been one nap away from a full-blown fever. Just like the last time Barry had seen fit to wake him, Roddy’s eyes only pried themselves open through of a film of sleep-induced gunk to see…brown? And was that thunder he was hearing? Was it storming outside?

Gradually he became aware that what he’d been staring at, it wasn’t brown – it was dried, crusted blood. Trailing his eyes up, not quite yet processing that the rumble of thunder was radiating from the vicinity of that bloodstained mess, he found Barry crouching over him with his eyes fixed on some point behind them. Roddy groaned, shutting his eyes to block out the blinding light beyond the Jägerbar’s bulky frame. He opened his mouth to voice his confusion only to choke on a dry, hacking cough. Whatever germs he’d been incubating thus far had decided it was time to wreak havoc on his weakened and malnourished body.

Almost immediately Barry’s eyes snapped to the prone body beneath him, a palpable feeling of mixed relief and concern radiating off him in waves. What kept Roddy on edge however was how that rumbling growl continued to resonate through the air around them and he was rapidly becoming aware of a separate snarling sound somewhere out of sight. For a brief moment Barry allowed himself to hold the Reinigen’s gaze before his eyes flashed maroon and turned back to assessing the apparent imminent threat to their being. Instead of straining his eyes further, Roddy allowed his eyelids to fall shut again, filtering whatever information he could through smells alone. Ignoring the scent of _wrong_ and _sick_ radiating off his own body and the stinking cloud of _protect_ and _warning_ wafting from the Jägerbar above him, Roddy concentrated on filtering through the rest. Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. _Fresh Löwen_.

The voices he could hear through Barry’s snarling threats identified themselves as Alexander, George and Nicholas in turn. _Does Cleo have any other cronies besides those three or are we just lucky?_ Even on his probable deathbed, Roddy inwardly swore to be as sarcastic as possible until the end. He flinched violently as the sound of something sparking made itself known overhead. Despite the exhaustion dulling his senses and the persistent ache weighing down his limbs he couldn’t fight the instinct that prompted him to curl on his side, hiding under Barry at the familiar sound of those cursed electric rods. Above him Barry let out a deafening roar, reacting instinctively to Roddy’s distress and attempting to divert the Löwens’ attention to himself instead.

Roddy hated feeling weak – feeling like he had no control over his situation or actions through the haze of infirmity and the body hovering over him, freely offering protection and distraction in equal turns – his instincts reducing him to a ball of raw instinct and vulnerability. He curled in tighter as Barry let out a powerful roar, the sound colored with pain as well as anger. Behind them Alexander swore colorfully, the only warning they got before Nicholas’ voice broke in with an almost gleeful “give me that”.

Barry’s body jerked violently before his arms buckled and he fell heavily atop Roddy, protecting him even as he twitched, the after effects of the brief shock Nicholas had delivered. Barry smelt heavily of blood and the vague scent of burning flesh lingered just underneath that but, overlaying it all, was the scent of furious Jägerbar. Never before had a predator’s anger invoked a sense of safety and protection in any prey-type Wesen, least of all a Reinigen but, even so, Roddy reached out his good hand to curl possessively in the sleeve of Barry’s bloody Henley.

Nicholas laughed raucously in the background even as Alexander continued cursing a blue streak, no doubt snatching back the electric rod before the more unstable Löwen could do anymore damage. George remained unnervingly silent throughout the proceedings, hushing Nicholas only briefly before turning his attention elsewhere. _Click. Click. Click._ The sound of heels was distinctly out of place in the chaos unfolding around them, heralding the approach of another.

“Don’t.” Barry had reverted to human speech as the electricity forced him to lose his grip on the woge he’d been maintaining so far in preparation to protect Roddy. “Don’t touch him.”

_Click. Click. Click._

“I see you’ve been disobeying orders again Nicholas.”

Those words were enough to bring a sudden and chilling silence to the room’s inhabitants.

“Domina,” George muttered the title in deference, not bothering to cover for his partner this time around.

Another calculating silence followed.

“What’s going on here?”

A feeling not unlike that which preceded a lightning strike charged the air.

“Well? Is anyone going to explain?” The question was soft like silk and about as innocent as a snake poised to strike.

“We thought he was dead,” Alexander offered, the distinctive click of a lighter accompanying his words. “The Reinigen I mean. We were trying to remove him when the Jägerbar went crazy.”

“Jägerbar reach their full potential when they have something to protect,” she answered simply. “Have you never wondered why it’s so rare to capture one, let alone a cub, for the Games?”

Alexander snorted his agreement, his mouth now occupied by a cigarette if the distinctive scent of tobacco permeating the air was anything to go by.

“What have I told you about smoking those in front of me?” Her voice had lost its edge of displeasure now, dropping into a purring, saccharine register. Alarms were blaring in Roddy’s mind now. “You know I’m trying to quit.”

“Sorry.”

The lighter ‘ _snicked_ ’ again as the scent of a second cigarette strengthened the aroma of tobacco muddling Roddy’s senses.

“You’re not upset.” George spoke in a tone that, from anyone else, would betray a question but now only stated a fact.

“I find the whole thing rather intriguing,” she continued to speak as though Barry and Roddy were rather uninteresting pieces of furniture rather than the subjects of her musings. “Jägerbar fight valiantly to protect their own, not unlike Löwen but – this loyalty rarely, if ever, extends beyond their family. And this one has chosen a Reinigen as the beneficiary of its protection for nothing in return. It’s…fascinating.”

“Fascinating or not, the thing’s half-dead so there’s no more use in keeping it around,” Nicholas fumed. “The Jägerbar’s down so now’s our chance to grab it.”

Barry released a weak growl as a warning to their captors. He may be at a severe disadvantage but he would fight nevertheless.

“I don’t think it likes that idea.”

Another rumbling threat met those words.

“I’ll tell you what Jägerbar,” she spoke, addressing them directly for the first time since her arrival. “Your Reinigen is sick and he probably won’t last too much longer. We have medicine. We’ll give it you if you can beat tomorrow night’s opponent _without_ a full woge. Put on a show this time and you’ll be allowed to keep your Reinigen toy alive for a while longer. Does that sound fair to you?”

The low threats that had been issuing from Barry thus far abruptly ceased as he weighed the female Löwen’s words.

“How do I know you aren’t lying?” His voice sounded raspier than the last time he’d spoken to Roddy, no doubt from the constant growling he’d been doing just now.

“A Löwen’s word is their bond. I know that better than Leo ever did. You win by my terms and you’ll get your reward. You lose and the Reinigen will die by your opponent’s hand. Simple as that.”

“Fine.”

As Barry spoke his arms flexed as he subtly curled tighter around Roddy in an attempt to bundle the Reinigen under his body and out of sight. By the amusement coloring Cleo’s words she’d caught sight of the action and it only furthered her good humor.

“Until tonight then. Alex. George. Nicholas.”

* * *

The next time Roddy passed into consciousness the Löwen had since disappeared and Barry was sitting beside him, his knees drawn up to his chest and his closed fist kneading his chest once more. Roddy hadn’t seen him do that since the first few nights they’d been together.

“Barry?” he croaked ignoring the sandpaper feeling in his throat.

The Jägerbar’s eyes snapped to him and Barry immediately knelt forward to hover protectively over Roddy’s prone form. He reached out one tentative hand to cautiously push the tangled curls from the Reinigen’s eyes.

“How do you feel?”

Roddy raised one eyebrow in a silent repetition of the Jägerbar’s own question. How was he feeling? How was Barry feeling? Roddy wasn’t the one who’d lashed out at the Löwen and gotten himself shocked for it.

“Don’t worry about me,” Barry assured Roddy, reaching past him for the water. Apparently it had been refilled following their earlier confrontation. Cleo was serious about making Barry uphold his end of the deal it seemed and extra water was one way of convincing them she was trustworthy. “You need to drink something though. Can you sit up?”

The Reinigen grunted before attempting to curl forward, using his good hand to leverage himself up before giving up with a pained moan. Barry sighed and readjusted himself to wrap one arm around Roddy’s shoulders and guided him into position reclining against one of his folded legs. Roddy’s cheeks burned at the new position – this was humiliating. He was supposed to be taking care of the Jägerbar so he could be fighting, not making him waste water and energy fussing over him.

“M’fine.”

“Mhmm,” Barry neither agreed nor disagreed as he tipped the water dish toward Roddy’s face. He took great care to only let the water flow past Roddy’s lips in small bursts, ensuring that he swallowed each mouthful before supplying any more.

“Too much,” Roddy spluttered, waving it away as Barry made to give him more.

“You’re sweating a lot,” Barry chastised him gently before setting aside the water nonetheless. “You need to stay hydrated or things will get a lot worse.”

Roddy inhaled deeply in frustration at the Jägerbar’s apparent coddling. It was more important for Barry to keep his strength up, especially in light of the new deal he’d struck with Cleo on Roddy’s behalf. Hesitating a moment to ensure Roddy was indeed as “fine” as he insisted Barry carefully lowered him back to the cage floor. Belatedly Roddy realized the Jägerbar had sacrificed his grey hoodie to become a sort of pillow for him. Idiot. He needed the hoodie for added warmth in the drafty damp of the barn. After a beat of suspicious silence, Roddy squinted his eyes at Barry curiously. The Jägerbar wasn’t looking at him, instead fiddling nervously with something on his other side out of Roddy’s line of sight.

“What’re you hiding?” he grumbled crossly.

Barry swallowed guiltily, averting his eyes even as he lifted whatever it was into Roddy’s field of vision. In one oversized hand lay the limp, dead body of a rat. How he’d managed to catch it while Roddy was asleep was anyone’s guess but he had a feeling it had to do with the rats being drawn to him in his distressed state. Often when he was sick his rats would find their way into his bedroom in the trailer, curling around him on pillows and blankets alike in an attempt to offer warmth and comfort to their ailing friend. Apparently this bond wasn’t limited to the rats he cared for. His feverish eyes flickered vaguely between the rat and the guilty expression on Barry’s face. Was there something he was missing?

“You need to eat something.”

A lump rose in Roddy’s throat, an empty threat by his body to vomit at the notion of what Barry was proposing. It was one thing for the Jägerbar to eat rats but for a Reinigen…it was paramount to cannibalism.

“Barry. No.”

“Please.”

Roddy flinched at the desperate note in Barry’s voice – the Jägerbar’s reply ready as soon as the refusal left his lips.

“Please, Roddy. I can’t keep fighting if I know you’re just going to die.”

“So you don’t care about yourself?”

Hesitation a beat too long. “I made you a promise.”

“I can’t.”

“So you’ll leave me on my own?”

The nausea roiling in his stomach transformed into guilt as he considered the reality of Barry’s words – if Roddy died here then Barry would be alone, there’d be no one left to tie him to his humanity and he would be lost to that nameless darkness lurking in all Wesen. He imagined Barry, curling around his wounds and leaving them to fester, letting them weaken him until he could no longer fight and he met his bloody end at the claws of a Wesen no less guilty or innocent than either of them. He pictured the light leaving those sea-green eyes as he died not once but twice over as both human and Wesen at the Löwens’ command.

“I can’t do it alone.”

Barry hesitated, his face twisting as he tried to puzzle out a solution.

“Okay. Okay hold on a second.”

Roddy listened as Barry’s fangs tore into the rat’s lifeless body just as surely as he’d done last night – only this time there was no accompanying swallow of desperation. Roddy’s brow creased in confusion having let his eyes shut sometime when he’d been considering the Jägerbar’s demise. Suddenly, a hot puff of breath ghosted over his cheeks and his eyes opened wide in surprise. Barry’s face hovered just inches from his own, the Jägerbar’s eyes boring into his for a moment longer before he moved. One large hand descended to cover the Reinigen’s nose while the other was planted firmly over his chest, forcing Roddy to breathe through his mouth. He had just enough time to gasp before Barry’s mouth clamped firmly over his, the Jägerbar’s tongue forcing a raw, chewed up mass into Roddy’s mouth. He tried to buck against the other’s greater mass but it was no use and, as Barry’s hand held firm over his nose, he was forced to swallow the bloody concoction or risk suffocation.

No sooner had he swallowed then Barry released him with trembling hands. Roddy hacked fitfully, his body attempting to eject the pulpy mass sliding down his throat to no avail. He glared at Barry through teary eyes but otherwise made no move to admonish him. If he’d tried to let Roddy eat it himself, the meat never would’ve passed his lips and he would have nothing in his stomach when it came time to administer the promised medicine.

“Ready for more?” Barry asked uncertainly, making sure to keep the rat’s mangled carcass out of view.

 _Of course not_ , Roddy wanted to spit but what left his mouth instead was, “I trust you.”

Barry swallowed guiltily, sliding one hand to cover Roddy’s eyes as the telltale sounds of teeth crunching into a furry little carcass filled Roddy’s ears.

* * *

At some point after the feedings and after Barry had urged him to drink more water Roddy had promptly passed out, water dish still pressed to his lips. Now he broke the surface of sleep with a fitful moan and jerk of weighted limbs. Strangely enough he couldn’t move too far, his arms pressed carefully to his chest and pinned to his sides by a pair of larger arms. He inhaled deeply. Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. Jägerbar. Safety. With a sigh of exhaustion and the sound of deep, steady snoring rolling over his senses like a woolen blanket he descended back into the darkness. Warmth and darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The human, er Wesen, body can only go so long without food. Also Cleo's behavior is explained like this...Löwen are giant cats of course they'd enjoy playing with their prey.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course when I decide to return, my computer decides to give up and die. I'll do my best to push through. Please forgive any errors in this chapter I'll come back and edit it when I publish Chapter 10 & 11.
> 
> Update: Chapter 9 edited! Chapter 10 & 11 on their way tomorrow!

 

_At some point after the feedings and after Barry had urged him to drink more water Roddy had promptly passed out, water dish still pressed to his lips. Now he broke the surface of sleep with a fitful moan and jerk of weighted limbs. Strangely enough he couldn’t move too far, his arms pressed carefully to his chest and pinned to his sides by a pair of larger arms. He inhaled deeply. Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. Jägerbar. Safety. With a sigh of exhaustion and the sound of deep, steady snoring rolling over his senses like a woolen blanket he descended back into the darkness. Warmth and darkness._

“We have to be careful.”

Barry paused mid sip, the water dish still pressed to his lips and a confused expression furrowing his brow. He swallowed loudly before handing it over to Roddy, indicating for him to take his own drink – they would be getting more after the fight tonight.

“Careful about what?” the Jägerbar finally asked, giving up on figuring out his companion’s cryptic warning.

“This,” Roddy motioned between them with the near empty dish. “You have to be careful about how close they think we are.”

The Reinigen was lying slumped against the wall of the cage, Barry’s hoodie still bunched up behind his head at the Jägerbar’s insistence. Even after receiving the promised medical supplies and more water than usual over the past few days, Barry still didn’t trust Roddy not to collapse at a moment’s notice. He had assured the Jägerbar that between proper (well as proper as possible under the circumstances) medical care, a few scattered feedings and an excess of water he was already feeling stronger than he had since his initial capture.

“Why?” the follow-up question interrupted Roddy’s brooding. “They already know I’m protecting you so why should it matter?”

Roddy sighed and closed his eyes as he tipped his head back into the hoodie cushioning it from the bars behind him. “Right now they think you’re protecting me out of instinct since Jägerbar crave connection. If they suspect we’re friends they may see me as more valuable leverage against you.”

“They’ll only use you to motivate me,” Barry shrugged though his eyes betrayed the concern Roddy’s words were stirring in him.

“Not if there’s somebody who wants one or both of us dead.”

“More than they already do.”

“More than they already do – like Nicholas.”

It wasn’t the first time the thought had occurred to Roddy. From day one Nicholas had been eager to see Roddy’s life end and, every day since, he’d been disappointed. Each night Barry was taken out to fight, the Löwen would jeer and hurl taunts at him, convinced that tonight was the Reinigen’s last night on Earth. And each time Barry prevailed Nicholas’d been forced to meet Roddy’s eyes and watch as the Jägerbar crowded him protectively against the far end of the cage. Eventually, perhaps even some time soon, the slighted Löwen would start to get desperate.

Barry snarled lowly at Roddy’s statement, his nose seeming to flatten as his canines extended slightly signaling a partial woge.

“If he touches you I’ll rip his throat out,” he assured Roddy with savage confidence.

“Only if he doesn’t electrocute you first – and if he doesn’t, George or Alexander certainly will.”

“He won’t get the chance this time.”

As the days overlapped and time continued to march on to the bloody rhythm of semi-nightly battles the other teenager had become more vocal in what he’d like to do to their captors given the chance. He no longer tried to convince himself his hands were clean.

“What if you don’t? What if he takes me while you’re in the ring – decides it’s high time to give me a new cellmate or someone gets sick of losing bets to you and bribes him to rig the next match?” _What if you just don’t come back next time?_

“I don’t know if that’ll be an issue,” Barry said, his eyes losing focus as they always did whenever he talked about the fights. “From what I hear, I seem to be a favorite in the ring. I think there’s only a few of us that fight regularly now.” The Blutbad, Barry, a Balam, a Fuilcré, a Königschlange and a Schakal. All were tough, aggressive Wesen more than capable of holding their own in a fight and guaranteed to deliver a deluge of blood in the ring. Roddy had taken to staying awake while awaiting Barry’s return, trying to parse through the other Wesen smells around them. When the time came to escape they had three options open to them:

1.) Find a way to use these Wesen to aid in their escape – of course this option always ran the risk of the Wesen turning on them instead, already too lost in the blood of the ring to recognize a potential ally when presented with one.

2.) Leave them behind and hope they wouldn’t alert the Löwen either by kicking up a fuss or ratting them out in the hopes of preferential treatment.

3.) Use them as a distraction to slow down the Löwen and give Barry and Roddy a greater chance of escaping or at least getting a decent head start.

Barry’s opponents of late weren’t as strong as his initial challengers. Maybe the Löwen had finally run through their extra Wesen and were attempting to keep their main competitors strong by not pitting them against each other just yet.

“If there’s enough money involved I’m sure the deaths of one Reinigen and one Jägerbar will be forgiven. Besides, they’ll still have five other fighters waiting in the wings.”

“Hopefully Alexander will keep that from happening,” Barry offered in a desperate attempt to reassure them both. “If I make him as much money as he says I do then you’re more valuable to him alive than dead.”

“Still, it’s safer not to tempt fate.”

“I think we’re way past that.”

Indeed, in the past few days it seemed the worst of the storm had passed – or they were simply sitting in the eye, waiting for the other wall to hit. Last night Alexander had delivered fresh bandages to their cage, his arms laden with even more supplies he had yet to deliver to the others. Whether they were still coherent enough to make us of them was another question entirely. It seemed these were the six Cleo had decided to invest in to secure her hold on the Löwen Games. Roddy held out the faint hope that the appearance of medical supplies would prelude that of real food and increased water as well.

Since the first feeding, Barry and Roddy had decided their improvised mouth-to-mouth was the best method to make Roddy stomach the raw rat meat. He had tried eating it on his own a few times but each time he’d collapsed into a coughing, gagging heap as the smell hit his sensitive nose. At least with Barry feeding him directly the Jägerbar’s overpowering scent and its increasing association with safety and survival overpowered Roddy’s Reinigen instinct to reject the offerings. He could feel his face heating as he lingered over the thought for a moment too long. Each time he’d both accepted and tried to ignore the taste and smell of the Jägerbar as he’d clamped chapped lips over Roddy’s own in some unholy parody of a kiss. It was uncomfortable, it was dry and it was all that was keeping him alive right now. They would have to be especially careful not to let _anyone_ catch them in the act lest they really misinterpret the relationship between the two – their very survival depended on it.

* * *

“No more,” Roddy groaned, pushing Barry’s face away for the umpteenth time. Seemingly satisfied (for now) with the amount he’d gotten Roddy to eat the Jägerbar obediently backed off, swallowing the morsel still in his mouth and licking his lips perfunctorily. Roddy made another noise of discomfort, riding out the wave of nausea that always followed their feedings. He still felt disgustingly pathetic, not even capable of eating on his own without being fed like a helpless baby bird. That feeling only compounded as Barry rubbed a tentative hand over the shaking Reinigen’s back; the slow, gentle contact helping him almost as much as the scent of Jägerbar still lingering over his senses.

It would seem the Jägerbar’s near-constant physical contact and predilection for curling around or near Roddy at night had served for more than fulfilling the Jägerbar’s need for connection—he’d been unconsciously scenting the younger Wesen. The more Roddy smelled of bear Wesen, the more the other teen associated their cage with safety and protection – specifically the safety and protection he was compelled to provide for his cellmate. It chaffed on the Reinigen’s instincts just as much as his pride; especially how it had become the single point of comfort in their captivity. Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. Jägerbar.

As Roddy relaxed into the offered comfort so did Barry. It seemed to satisfy the worst of his protective urges to the see the Reinigen unharmed and smelling, at least marginally, normal again.

“You’re getting stronger,” Barry noted hopefully. Between the clean bandages and Roddy’s gradually returning vitality the Jägerbar sounded increasingly optimistic with each passing day. If he were being honest, Roddy would admit the other teenager’s attitude was infectious and renewed plans for escape were taking shape in his mind even now. Barry’s hand drifted up, pushing aside the curls on the back of Roddy’s head to thumb absently at the dried clump of blood covering his now scabbed over wound. Neither had made any move to clean away the congealed mess, too afraid of accidentally reopening the cut and being unable to stem the inevitable blood flow that would accompany such a head wound. His eyes flickered to the absent look on Roddy’s face and he grunted before removing his offending hand. He’d learned it was best not to interrupt the Reinigen when deep in thought – Roddy tended to get snappish when his contemplations were disrupted.

“Yeah I guess.”

More than a few minutes had passed since Barry’d voiced his observation but he was beginning to expect the delayed responses.

“What were you thinking about?”

Intelligent blue-gray eyes considered the Jägerbar as he pieced together his response.

“Escaping. If it’s even possible. I’ve been going over the details in my mind and I don’t—” He cut himself off with a noise of frustration, hissing as only Reinigen do and producing a series of irritated clicks.

“It’s possible,” Barry asserted confidently, “We’re getting stronger and they’re letting their guard down.”

“Not as much as you’d think. They’re keeping guards posted during the fights now. They’ve been trying to reduce us to relying solely on our instincts and they know that makes us more dangerous. They’re done breaking us but that doesn’t mean they’re any less cautious.”

A contemplative silence greeted his words as Barry struggled to counter the pessimistic argument – but something else about the Reinigen’s words was nagging at him.

“What about us?”

“What about us?”

“Why haven’t we completely reverted? I can hear the Blutbad sometimes, howling or the others hissing and snarling…I don’t think they’re capable of human speech any more. Why not us?”

“Because we have each other. I keep you human and you keep me safe. It’s why they wanted you to kill me in the beginning. If they suspect anything they’ll target me first – we’re just lucky that Cleo seems more amused than wary for now.”

“How do we keep her interested then?”

“Keep doing what we’re doing I guess? Who knows what cats think about when they’re playing with their food.” Klaustreich were bad enough to a Reinigen on their own but a pack of Löwen with time and a particular enjoyment for playing with their captives’ heads before delivering the final blow? That was any prey-Wesen’s worst nightmare.

“Either way, we don’t know how long we can keep her interested enough to let you alive.”

“Exactly.”

The Reinigen’s scent was beginning to tip towards notes of _wrong_ souring the veil of calm Barry had managed to coax into place, however briefly. As though physically prompted by the smell Barry’s hand found its way to grasp firmly at Roddy’s neck in what was supposed to be reassuring grip. His mom had often initiated the hold when he was an unruly, young cub; a mimic of their Wesen counterpart’s instinct to grab and shake by the scruff. Roddy tensed momentarily before going limp, an action of both submission and a conscious effort to relax his body.

“Do you think the rats could help?”

“No,” Roddy sighed as Barry’s thumb moved to press the flesh of between his neck and shoulder. “Without a proper instrument the most I can do is attract them and make them fall asleep, not execute complex orders. Besides, I’m not sure how willing they’ll be to help once word spreads I’ve been luring the others to their deaths. I can’t risk communicating with them more than I have to.” It went unsaid that the more he bonded with these particular rats the more impossible it would be for him to offer them up as supper.

“What else were you thinking about?”

“Nothing that doesn’t end with us fighting our way out.”

He could see why that would be a problem for the Reinigen. For a moment he contemplated the possibility of Roddy riding him out in full woge, an adolescent bear barreling through those in their way with a rat clamped to his back but he quickly dismissed this. The Löwen had guns as well as claws at their disposal and wouldn’t hesitate to use them on such a large, aggressive target. A regular woge would do but, of course, that would leave Roddy vulnerable to attack by the comparatively larger and stronger Wesen.

“Why don’t I teach you?”

Roddy raised one eyebrow in a silent request for clarification. Barry snorted and rolled his eyes, momentarily increasing the force in his grip.

“Why don’t I tell how to fight larger Wesen – well, how you would fight me anyway.”

“Theory won’t do much good in a fight.”

“It can’t hurt.”

A beat of hesitation. “Fine. Lay it on me then.”

“How fast are you?”

“I’m a Reinigen. Running away is kind of in our DNA.”

“Right. Well, use that to your advantage. What about your stamina?”

“Average I guess. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Barry removed his hand, looking over Roddy with a discerning eye before crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” Roddy couldn’t even bring himself to snap at Barry with his usual level of offense at the blatant perusal.

“Just seeing what you have to work with. You’re not as small as most Reinigen but you’re still skinny. Your best bet would be to dodge and wait out your opponent for an opening to either end it or run. Strike from the back if you can so they can’t counter either. Let me see your woge.”

Another searing glare met these words but nonetheless, his features morphed into a classic Reinigen woge. Enlarged ears, beady eyes, narrowed jaw and pronounced front teeth all appeared just long enough for Barry to catalogue before reverting to surprisingly angular human features. He’d noted blunted claws as well, more for gouging and rummaging than serious harm.

“You’re going to want to grab a weapon if you can.”

“No shit,” Roddy rolled his eyes tiredly. “Reinigen aren’t exactly built for combat. We prefer using our teeth if it comes down to it.”

“And any Löwen you get close enough to would take you out first.”

Roddy hunched in on himself, drawing his knees up to his chest.

“Right, so I’ll have to be the battering ram and you get the stragglers.”

“We’ll need more than brute force to escape you know. Say we make it out of the barn, what then? We keep running until they regroup and chase us down again?”

“We need a distraction.”

“We need a distraction.”

In the back of his mind, a small voice suggested that now would be the perfect opportunity to bring up the Grimm but Roddy suppressed it once more. More than a week had passed since their imprisonment and, according to Nicholas the night they’d been moved, “no cops; no reports; no traces left behind”. Even with his resources as a cop there was no guarantee he’d find them assuming he noticed even the Reinigen’s absence. Of course, neither teen had any way to know their time with the Löwen was rapidly drawing to a close…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh. Don't fret Part 2 is actually pre-written so it'll be on a steady update schedule this time around.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: It's been edited!.
> 
> On another note I think this is the longest chapter I've posted so far.

_In the back of his mind, a small voice suggested that now would be the perfect opportunity to bring up the Grimm but Roddy suppressed it once more. More than a week had passed since their imprisonment and, according to Nicholas the night they’d been moved, “no cops; no reports; no traces left behind”. Even with his resources as a cop there was no guarantee he’d find them assuming he even noticed the Reinigen’s absence. Of course, neither teen had any way to know their time with the Löwen was rapidly drawing to a close…_

That night Roddy danced fitfully in-and-out of sleep despite the Jägerbar’s solid presence at his back radiated a steady, grounding warmth. He’d returned from the ring as usual but, this time, he seemed…different. There was a distinct sluggishness to his movements that had, until now, been waning ever since Roddy started catching the rats for them to eat. When he had proceeded to check the Jägerbar over for injury, Barry had simply batted him away before feeding the both of them. Over the past few days they’d been steadily building the tentative trust between them, strengthening their bond into something they could anchor themselves to in the midst of the surrounding chaos. To be dismissed so abruptly now was simultaneously irritating and alarming to the Reinigen. Shaking off his misgivings with a full-body shiver he pressed a little closer against the Jägerbar’s back.

The larger Wesen was like a furnace behind him, putting off heat in comforting waves and leeching the chill from Roddy’s malnourished bones. Tonight in particular the warmth seemed more intense than usual and a strange, sour note was invading the stale air around them. Perhaps…

Rolling over carefully, Roddy levered himself so he could hover over Barry, and let his Reinigen sight adjust to the darkness around them. The Jägerbar had a surprisingly round face for such a large build, the disconnect only further emphasized by his broad (ironically almost bear-like) features and the ears protruding slightly from beneath his hair. It had grown longer during the days of their captivity and the lengthened curls softened his features, making him look deceptively younger than his eighteen years. Muscles twitched in his face as he slept and his snoring sounded shallower, harsher than normal. Biting his lip uncertainly, Roddy laid his hand on the Jägerbar’s face before feeling tentatively over his forehead and cheeks. Barry’s skin was sweaty, clammy and alarmingly hot to the touch.

Fever. Barry was coming down with a fever. Dread like a lead weight dropped in Roddy’s stomach and he noted absently that his hand was shaking as he withdrew it. Barry, the one thing keeping them both alive, had finally succumbed to his surroundings leaving them both virtually defenseless.

Panicking silently, Roddy pressed his side to the Jägerbar’s still sleeping form and began gnawing nervously on the cracked, brittle nails of his good hand. Barry wasn’t supposed to fight for roughly thirty-six hours but, even then, there was no way he would recover in time to step into the ring and live. It was doubtful the Löwen would allow him time to heal let alone provide him with medicine in the meantime. At this point bandages were relatively easy to procure from the Löwen but the medicine was another matter altogether. Additionally, Cleo seemed unlikely to offer the Reinigen any sort of deal in the Jägerbar’s place. She saw Barry’s victories as a sign of the Gods’ favor towards Roddy and now that he’d fallen ill – she was likely to interpret this as abandonment on their part. As the Reinigen sat observing the now obvious signs of Barry’s illness he couldn’t help agreeing with her. All the while, in the back of his mind, all he could picture was the limp, torn body of that first rat.

* * *

Sleep did not come easily to Roddy in the wake of the discovery of Barry’s condition. Would the Jägerbar be up for escaping in his condition or would the faint hope they’d managed to scrape together disintegrate with sunset? For a full day and a half, between fitful bouts of sleep and several attempts to rouse the ailing Jägerbar for food and water, Roddy kept watch. He was keenly aware how their positions were reversed only a few days prior and it had been the larger Wesen hovering over him as he struggled against the specter of illness.

Initially Roddy had returned Barry’s hoodie, bunching it up as a pillow as the Jägerbar had been done for Roddy in his sickness but his offering had been swiftly and decisively rejected. Seeming to pick up on the Reinigen’s distress even in the midst of his infirmity Barry had instead promptly rolled over and latched himself to Roddy’s waist, burrowing his head in the Reinigen’s lap and inhaling deeply. The Jägerbar’d been more than a little embarrassed to realize what position he’d forced them into when he’d been woken for his first feeding. Somehow, even in his dazed state, he’d known enough to take the offered rat and tear into it away from the Reinigen’s line of sight. He wasn’t as bad as Roddy had been but, unfortunately, he was still in no condition to fight in the ring against whatever newly captured Wesen the Löwen managed to procure. In the back of his mind, Roddy wracked his brain for answers as to what he would do when the Löwen came for them that night.

“Ready to rock and – son of a bitch!” Alexander’s surprised exclamation snapped the Reinigen out of his daze long enough for him to realize there was no more time for planning. “God dammit George get Cleo in here now. Nicholas round up a few more guys and bring out the Balam for the first fight. Let the others know there’s been a change of plans.”

Nicholas asked the older Löwen something excitedly but the question was largely ignored as he only received a passive wave of acknowledgment, Alexander muttering curses under his breath the whole time.

“You. Reinigen. What happened?”

Roddy jumped at the direct address, glancing at the sweating Jägerbar in panic. Thank goodness Barry had already rolled back onto his side so the Löwen hadn’t witnessed him clinging helplessly to Roddy instead. “He’s ill. Fever. Started yesterday morning.”

“Fuck.” Alexander snatched the beaten baseball cap off his head, pushing back his hair in a sign of mixed irritation and uncertainty.

“What’s going on here Alexander? Why is the Balam going out first?”

“Take a look for yourself,” he gestured roughly towards the cage with his hat before spitting crossly on the ground. “Shit.”

As Alexander’s face was replaced with Cleo’s a familiar chill of dread swirled around them – there was just something about the female Wesen that seemed to freeze the air in Roddy’s lungs as she pinned them with that detached yet oddly penetrative gaze. “It would seem you have lost your protection Reinigen.”

Roddy remained silent, angling himself towards Barry’s body in a bid to block him from view. No wonder the Jägerbar had nearly woged when they’d come for Roddy – he could already feel his proverbial hackles rising at the hungry look she was giving them both. If it was this bad for Roddy now, it must have been enough to send the Jägerbar, with all his heightened protective instinct, into a frenzy of territorial aggression. He could barely hear as she turned to issue orders to a few out of sight Löwen over the pounding of blood in his ears. The woge was sitting just under his skin, prickling with unbridled panic and begging with him to transform and flee as fast and far as his feet would take him.

Cleo vanished from view though that threatening, knife-edge feeling that accompanied her presence lingered at the edges of his awareness. Alexander loomed once more overhead, two strange Löwen lingering behind either shoulder. It seemed Cleo was wise enough not to include Nicholas in any potential extractions this time around. A grating, guttural sound was rising in Roddy’s ears as the Löwen moved to open their cage.

“Cut that shit out will ya?” Alexander snarled while one of the others unlatched the cage.

Startled, Roddy belatedly realized the agitated noises were emanating from him, his teeth already sharpening through a woge to accommodate the more rat-like sounds.

“Grab the Jägerbar in the back Adrian. The Reinigen won’t give you any trouble.”

A shabby looking Löwen with stringy hair and bald patch on the top of his head, crouched down in front of the mouth of the cage, a dissatisfied frown twisting his features. Before Roddy could really process what was happening, Adrian reared back with a pained snarl and the taste of iron flooded his mouth. When had his body moved on its own?

He was crouched defensively beside Barry, rocking on the balls of his feet while his good hand steadied him on the floor. It seemed Barry wasn’t the only one whose instincts were on edge – or whose protective side had decided to latch on the most unsuitable Wesen possible. Great, even if he’d never intended to fight before it was too late to talk his way out of the situation. Allowing the woge to finally overtake him, he puffed out his chest a let out a series of harsh, scraping noises in warning. This time he wasn’t going down without a fight…

* * *

No more than five minutes later, Roddy had successfully bitten Adrian hard enough to punch a hole through his hand, Alexander had sworn more than Roddy had previously believed possible and the third Löwen had staunchly refused to put his hands anywhere near the Reinigen’s snapping teeth. Things came to a head when Cleo harshly reminded them of the weapons at their disposal. Roddy didn’t even try to fight the current that lanced through him, sending him curling in on himself for the moment it lasted.

“Are you quite finished Reinigen?”

Roddy chittered angrily in lieu of answering with words, still eyeing the bristling Löwen suspiciously.

“Now, how would you prefer to die tonight?”

The chittering abruptly ceased as her words managed to penetrate the barrier of _protect_ and _danger_ that had so far obstructed his more human sensibilities.

“I’m afraid there’s no way to uphold our deal as it stands. Seeing as your protector has seen fit to fall outside the covenant of the ring you now have a choice as to how you die. What will it be?”

Grey-blue eyes flickered desperately between the waiting Löwen and the Jägerbar beginning to stir from the depths of his fever-induced slumber. A plan was forming in Roddy’s mind – it was hopeless, it was crazy it was…it was…it was the only chance they had.

“In the ring,” Roddy declared, allowing his woge to fade to signal his impending cooperation. “Let me fight in his place.”

Three pairs of eyes flew to Cleo in disbelief, suspicion and surprise etched on each and every one of their faces. The lioness herself seemed outwardly unfazed though the unholy gleam in her eyes betrayed her intrigue at this unprecedented development. A Reinigen fighting in the games? It was unheard of – and that’s what made it perfect for her. Why give them a sickly Jägerbar hardly capable of putting on a show when they could have…this instead?

“What do you want if you win?” She may be taking the bait but she was no fool; the Reinigen would want something in exchange for this as per their pattern so far.

“Medicine and fresh bandages.”

“Medicine is precious. You’re quite presumptuous for someone about to die.”

Roddy remained silent, allowing her to weigh the pros and cons of granting his request – they both knew he had no real leverage over the situation. He’d only proposed the deal in the faint hope she would see the connection between Reinigen and Jägerbar ran both ways and that keeping them both alive would only prolong whatever strange game they’d already begun.

“Cleo, you’re not seriously considering—”

“Very well.” Alexander’s stilted protest only seemed to reinforce her decision. “I will see that your request is granted. All you have to do is stay alive.”

“Deal.”

Before they could change their minds, Roddy shuffled forward with his hands held out in cooperation even while Adrian eyed him angrily, still clutching his wounded limb to his chest. Alexander stared open-mouthed between Cleo and the now eerily calm Reinigen in blatant disbelief. They’d never put a prey-Wesen in the ring before. Besides, since the fighting order had already been reshuffled that meant the rat would be out against _her_ …

The third Löwen, in an attempt to appear unfazed and obedient, was the one to step forward and secure the iron shackles around Roddy’s wrists. They scratched and chaffed at his skin where his wrists rattled loosely in the restraints. These were made for much larger, more aggressive Wesen than a Reinigen and he knew their presence was more a reminder for him than any real attempt by his captors to keep him restrained – they wouldn’t need shackles for that; not with him. Remembering Barry’s example over the past few nights he hurried forward before they could start yanking instead.

As he finally shuffled out enough to stand on shaking legs a snuffling sound announced itself behind him. Barry was waking up. Glancing over his shoulder Roddy noted that the Jägerbar was not actually fully coherent yet, stretching out his arms weekly and snuffling in the Reinigen’s direction with confusion. It wouldn’t be long until Roddy’s missing presence would send him to his knees, growling and protesting.

“I’m ready,” Roddy promised, shifting subtly to return blood flow to his legs. He’d occasionally stretched out in their cage, unable to still his restless limbs and determined to keep them under him when the time came to run.

Hooking the chain of the shackles with a menacing looking crowbar, Alexander took up leading him, Adrian and the other Wesen already dispersing into the darkness to seek medical care and return to their post respectively. Cleo continued standing beside Barry and Roddy’s cage staring blankly down at the steadily waking Jägerbar – no doubt she wanted to see his face when he realized what the Reinigen had agreed to on his behalf.

“Eyes forward Reinigen. I’m going to escort you into the ring first. I’ll give a little speech, rile up the crowd, etcetera, etcetera before I let your opponent in.” _What is it?_ Roddy wanted to ask but he sensed from the Löwen’s nervously aggressive scent and gruff tone that questions wouldn’t exactly be welcome at the present. “You two are going to fight, try to keep things entertaining or I’ll have to kill both of you, and just try not to die too soon either. Capiché?” He glared over his shoulder long enough for Roddy to nod in agreement.

The corridor they walked down was obnoxiously lit and Roddy briefly wondered how no one had come investigate such a brightly lit yet obviously dilapidated building. Suddenly, the lighting dropped off and they ventured through the darkened main space towards a single ominous beam of light illuminating the mangled, metal cage in the center of the open building. All around him, different smells clashed and warred for attention in their excitement. Though most of the smells were distinctly predatory Roddy thought he could recognize a few prey Wesen in their midst – including the all-too familiar smell of Reinigen. His eyes scanned the waiting crowds with no small degree of desperation. Maybe he could spot someone he recognized, after all more than a few of the Reinigen his father had brawled with down at the bars had mentioned their predilection for the bloody games. Still, the dramatic change in lighting helped to neutralize the usual keenness of Roddy’s sight and reduced the crowd to a throng of surging, faceless shadows. Debris flew at him as one particularly agitated onlooker swore violently before loudly demanding a refund on his bet. According to Barry there was usually a lot of money riding on him in the ring and anyone who’d taken to betting on the Jägerbar as a sure thing would be none too pleased to find a Reinigen fighting in place of their usual Jägerbar.

As promised Alexander roughly opened Roddy’s shackles as someone else unlocked the cage around the ring. The symbols he’d once observed them painting on the floor shone ominously in the harsh light. The flaking, dried brown patterns raised the hairs on Roddy’s arms – over the past few days he’d grown quite accustomed to the sight and smell of dried blood. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what they meant but, as Alexander set him stumbling over them, he knew enough to see they had something to do with the ritualistic nature of these battles. The lights served to further disorient him, blanketing the surrounding Wesen in blessedly anonymous shadow. Just like when they’d been unloaded from the trailers Roddy knew this was a tactic for protecting their identities on the off chance any of their victims managed to escape.

Distantly Alexander’s voice boomed as he attempted to curry enthusiasm for the match about to take place. Whether he was gathering the crowd to Roddy’s side or his opponent’s he couldn’t tell but he knew no one was expecting this to go well for him. Closing his eyes and allowing the woge to take him, Roddy thought of Barry’s face as he’d seen it over these past days and nights: twisted with suspicion and anger, melting into something trusting and hopeful and, more recently, restless and unsettled as he weakly processed Roddy’s absence.

Roddy was not proud to admit that he, in his seventeen years so far, boasted a less than stellar track record for finishing what he started. He hadn’t been able to keep his mom from leaving when he was ten; he hadn’t kept his father out of the jail cells as he’d promised her when she’d walked away. He’d been kicked out of Von Hamelin, lost the girl he’d thought he’d loved, given up on the one thing he had going for him outside of school when he’d hung up his mantle as Retchid Kat. This time he would finish what he’d started and this time he would survive.

He opened his eyes as the cage door rattled again and he realized he’d been slowly backing his way to the other side of the arena; it would be best not present his back to his opponent or things would end too quickly to counter. The shadows lifted and a young Coyotl stepped into the light. She was almost as thin as Roddy, her hair hanging in greasy tangles around a gaunt, snarling face. Her yellow eyes were sunken into her skull slightly and a familiar air of _wrong_ and _desperation_ swirled around her like a close friend.

“You,” Roddy gasped, his eyes widening fractionally. “From the basement.”

She did not answer with words, merely howled in a declaration of war. As Roddy struggled to process her newly revealed identity Alexander’s voice barked out one, booming command and she sprang forward in a flurry of flailing limbs and snapping jaws. How had she managed to survive this long? Barry hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing a Coyotl fight and Roddy was more than certain he’d never scented her in the barn before. Was she kept isolated away from the rest? Why had they kept her alive so long? Had she too managed to defeat her given predator? Was _she_ the predator?

Roddy was forced drop to his knees and roll as she came particularly close to gauging his face with her broken, yellowed claws. Remembering himself and his surroundings as Alexander’s words rang in his ear, “Keep things entertaining.” Roddy knew what he had to do.

Snarling, Roddy allowed himself to get lost in the woge, dodging, rolling, snapping and trying to circle around to the Coyotl’s back. He noted with no small degree of relief that after the initial flurry of teeth and claws she was visibly slowing down, muscle fatigue and malnourishment catching up to her. Roddy of course was no better off than her but at least he’d been largely healthy and unscathed before stepping into the ring. He heard the collective voice of the crowd ebbing and flowing with each close call as both Wesen failed to draw blood from each other. “Wait out your opponent for an opening to either end it or run.”

 _I don’t think running’s an option right now_ , Roddy thought, through gritting his teeth as she swiped dangerously close to his ear again. He had to end this sooner rather than later or his advantage would quickly peter out. Another frantic dodge and Roddy decided now was the opening he’d been looking for. She slashed desperately at him again, the snarl had long since dropped from her face and morphed into sheer panic instead. Dodging, he managed to get a few blunted claws into her shoulder, slamming her face first against the wall of the arena and sinking his teeth firmly into the back of her neck. It wasn’t a killing bite but her body went limp nonetheless and almost instantaneously and a pathetic whimper signaled her submission.

Releasing his hold Roddy glared toward Alexander who lingered on the edge of the halo of light. He sneered at them disdainfully before turning to address the crowd. He asked them something that invoked a mixture of jeering and yelling in reply. Seemingly satisfied by the response he received, Alexander leaned forward and thrust his arm through the bars, making a thumbs-up motion before twisting his hand so his thumb pointed toward the floor. “Kill her.”

Roddy’s entire body went cold as the order processed in his ears. He thought a knockout would be enough to get both him and her out of the arena in one piece but this – the unholy gleam in Alexander’s eyes assured him there was no room for negotiation on this. Either he killed the near-unconscious Coyotl in cold blood or retribution would descend up both he and Barry swiftly and without mercy.

Screwing his eyes shut he leaned forward, and plunged his teeth into warm, sour flesh and bit down hard.

* * *

For the first time Roddy understood with sickening clarity the blank, haunted look he’d often observed in the Jägerbar’s eyes. The feeling only compounded with each step away from the ring and the Reinigen attempted to retreat further into himself as he noted Cleo standing exactly where she’d been before he was led out into the darkness. A light of perverse pleasure shined behind her eyes as she attempted to catch Roddy’s gaze.

“I’ll be damned but the Reinigen actually did it,” Alexander growled, escorting him back towards his cage. “Clean bite to the neck and hardly a scratch on him.”

Cleo hummed her ascent, stepping aside so Alexander and the still unnamed Löwen could undo the latches to their cage. Mimicking what he’d seen Barry do before, Roddy kneeled and shuffled forward to where the Jägerbar was now sitting slumped against the bars. Under his breath he was murmuring the same words over and over.

“Don’t take him. Don’t kill him. Don’t—”

Feeling simultaneously ill and relieved Roddy wanted nothing more to curl up at his side but didn’t dare move forward under the Löwen’s watchful eyes.

“He’s been like that the whole time you know,” Cleo’s voice purred silkily as Alexander and the other Löwen retreated. “Ever since you left he’s been begging for your return.” Roddy ignored her, staring with carefully blank concentration at the ailing Wesen’s face instead. He wanted to reach forward and assure the Jägerbar that he was whole and hale and more than capable of defending them both. He wanted to receive comfort from sea-green eyes and hands too large for anyone but a Jägerbar. “Tell me Reinigen, have you grown to care for the Jägerbar?”

Roddy didn’t answer, knowing his silence would condemn him just as easily as any words he spoke.

“Interesting.”

He shivered at the particular emphasis she laid on the word and prayed silently that she would grow bored enough to leave.

“You have honored your end of the deal and now I shall do my part. Medicine and fresh bandages as promised.” He hadn’t realized when the promised supplies had been delivered, too concentrated on Barry at his front and the hostile presence at his back to be aware of much else. Crouching, she slid the small, dingy roll of bandages through the bars along with an innocuous clear sandwich bag containing six plain white pills. “This is all you’ll get from this fight,” she said, tapping the pills in particular for emphasis. “For now, Reinigen.”

Roddy couldn’t resist exhaling heavily in relief as, finally, he and Barry were left to their usual solitude. He couldn’t get his hands on Barry fast enough, cradling his face with his good hand and leaning his forehead against the other’s to check for spikes in fever. Everything was about the same as when he’d left him. Leaning away, he breathed another sigh of relief before turning to consider the level of water in their dish. Until Alexander returned with more water there wasn’t much he could do for Barry beyond ensuring he got something in his stomach.

“Barry you have to wake up,” Roddy spoke with a gentle firmness. He knew better than to try shaking the larger Wesen awake but there was a certain level of rising desperation to see his eyes open if only once. “Barry don’t be an ass. Just wake up already.”

Grunting in response, it took a moment longer before those heavy, tired eyes finally lifted to Roddy’s face.

"Roddy,” the Jägerbar’s eyes widened and he jerked in place momentarily. “You’re back. You – you’re alive.” Large hands came up to pat gently across Roddy’s face in a reversal of their earlier positions. Roddy was ashamed to admit he squeaked in alarm as the Jägerbar dragged him forward into a crushing hug, inhaling his scent in reassuring huffs of air. “You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive…”

Roddy didn’t interrupt, knowing the Jägerbar would need to ground himself in Roddy’s presence after the disorientation brought on by his sudden departure. In the overwhelming relief of the moment, Roddy wasn’t ashamed to admit that his good hand came up to curl with equal desperation into the fabric of the Jägerbar’s shirt in an attempt ground himself in _this_ and _right now._ Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. Barry…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect Chapter 11 some time today too. I'm gaining steam as we near the end.
> 
> Update: Chapter 11 is giving me a bit of a headache so stay tuned. 
> 
> If anyone wants to hear what an angry rat sounds like here (https://youtu.be/4CHjQVwvSeE) you go. It really threw me off when I heard it.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited.

 

_Roddy didn’t interrupt, knowing the Jägerbar would need to ground himself in Roddy’s presence after the disorientation brought on by his sudden departure. In the overwhelming relief of the moment, Roddy wasn’t ashamed to admit that his good hand came up to curl with equal desperation into the fabric of the Jägerbar’s shirt in an attempt ground himself in this and right now. Damp. Wood. Rust. Blood. Barry…_

 

The remainder of the night after Roddy’s battle could be characterized best by a pervasive feeling of suffocation, desperation and hopelessness. Roddy couldn’t tell how long he and Barry clung to each other, inhaling their mingling scents in deep shuddering breaths. At one point Barry had started speaking – words of reassurance spoken in low comforting tones while his hand absently stroked Roddy’s sweat-dampened hair. In return, the Reinigen had tightened his hold on Barry’s shirt, attempting to slow his breathing and calm his shaking limbs. He knew he was getting fresh blood on Barry’s shirt where his face rubbed against the once-white fabric but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his face away and clean it properly with the refilled water. He was sure George had checked in on them – he could imagine him, eyebrows rising in a rare display of surprise before reassuming his neutral expression and passing on.

Eventually Barry’s hold loosened and his hands moved to Roddy’s shoulders and thumbed absently at the fabric of his hoodie. He silently released the Reinigen before retrieving his own hoodie and draping it over Roddy’s shoulders. It had been a long time since it had last smelled solely of Jägerbar but their combined scents were enough to keep him from physically reaching out for Barry’s comfort once more.

“Drink,” Barry spoke again, holding out the water dish in offering.

“I can’t – my face – ” Roddy struggled to articulate his fear of contaminating their water supply with the blood clinging to his face and staining the inside of his mouth with the taste of iron.

Seeming to understand despite Roddy’s utter failure to effectively communicate, Barry nodded reassuringly. Dragging the Reinigen forward by the back of his head, he cradled the slightly smaller Wesen against his raised and bended knee, gently encouraging him to tip his head back. Realizing what the Jägerbar intended, Roddy obeyed the silent command so the other could tip the water into his open mouth. Barry purposely allowed some of the water to trickle over Roddy’s face before raising the hem of his shirt to wipe at his face with the less contaminated side of the once-white fabric. Roddy squirmed but felt all too exhausted to fight it as the adrenaline that had been fueling him since he’d discovered Barry’s illness finally faded.

Gnashing teeth: brittle and yellowed from gnawing on the flesh and bones of fellow Wesen. Slashing claws: broken and cracked from scratching at captors and captives alike in a bid to stay alive just a day longer. Glowing eyes – desperate eyes: sunken and scared – and so young…just like the eyes staring down at him in concern.

“M’fine,” Roddy murmured, leaning momentarily into the arm still cradling his body as he slumped in the Jägerbar’s hold.

“Hey,” Barry’s voice was gentle yet unyielding as he tapped Roddy’s cheek to keep him from drifting off. “I know, okay. You don’t have to lie to me.”

He would tell Barry eventually, staring into those stormy eyes he knew there was very little he would keep from him but, for now, all he could see were the terrified eyes of the young woman whose life he’d just exchanged for theirs.

“I know,” Roddy sighed, allowing his eyes to slip shut for a moment.

“Hey,” Barry said again, his tone a touch firmer this time. “You need something to eat before you sleep. You’ve used a lot of energy.”

Knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest until the Jägerbar was satisfied, Roddy managed to sit a little straighter, pushing groggily away from Barry’s hold. Closing his eyes he began a familiar tune, listening for the inevitable sound of scratching claws and the chattering of deceptively sharp teeth. Once their meal was secured, Roddy eased back into Barry’s side knowing he would need the other’s support for the subsequent feeding. He would stay awake long enough to lure down at least two more rats for the Jägerbar and remind him of the waiting medicine before he finally dropped off into blessed unconsciousness. Before he faded entirely he could swear he felt the touch of a fever-hot forehead resting against his own.

* * *

Roddy was more than a little surprised (and admittedly disappointed) when he woke to find no Jägerbar curled against or around him. Instead, he found his head pillowed against Barry’s leg, one hand carding absently through his hair and the other kneading a broad chest. This time he was actually close enough to hear the words leaving the Jägerbar’s mouth in barely audible bursts.

“Watch us and keep us safe. Let us live long enough to see the next sunrise and longer still to the sunset,” Barry paused, stumbling over his words as he struggled to articulate his final plea. “And if it should not be so then trade my life for his.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Roddy attempted to hold back the sudden wave of emotion rushing over him at those words. Never in his life had he ever done anything to earn him such unadulterated kindness or loyalty or compassion from another person. Even his own mother… . They couldn’t have been together more than ten days and here he was, battling illness and injury alike as he prayed to some higher power for the life of a stranger – for _Roddy’s_ life. He barely suppressed a hitch in his breath as another gut wrenching realization crashed over him on the heels of the first. Without a stitch of doubt or a beat of hesitation he knew, if he still believed in such things, he would make the same plea for Barry’s life. He clenched his good hand into a fist, attempting to suppress a steadily building shudder from wracking his body.

Barry must have known he was awake, if the split-second pause of the hand stroking his hair was any indication, but he made no move to call out the Reinigen for listening in on his private moment. The Jägerbar was not ashamed of his growing sentiment toward the Reinigen and he knew that if Roddy didn’t make it out of here a part of him would just as surely die.

They sat like that for a few minutes more, each weighing the startling worth of the other’s life. Of course, this peaceful contemplation could last only so long before someone saw fit to interrupt.

“Well Reinigen I must say you’ve managed to impress me.”

Tensing in place, Roddy took a deep breath to gather himself before easing away from Barry’s side. The Jägerbar snarled warningly though the sound was noticeably less robust than the last time he’d been threatening their captors. It had been too long since Nicholas had last seen fit to grace them with his presence.

“What? Nothing to say? I’m trying to pay you a complement here,” the Löwen’s voice positively dripped with sarcasm and the light in his eyes was much too pleased for Roddy’s taste. “You caused quite a stir last night. Nobody’s ever seen a Reinigen take on a predator and live. You’ve got them all curious but I knew better.”

Roddy _really_ didn’t like the wide, bloodthirsty smile spreading across Nicholas’ face.

“That Coyotl was our cleanup crew y’know? She was supposed to take care of anyone too weak to put up a good fight. A filler. You were supposed to fight a Schakal but Cleo had other plans.”

Seemingly unbothered by Roddy’s lack of response, the Löwen leaned arrogantly against the edge of the stall, pushing his hair away from his face so Roddy could clearly see the glint of his dark eyes.

“It finally makes sense now – why she didn’t kill you both as soon as the Jägerbar failed. She had to find a way to make you fight and, oh boy did she. He was trying to keep you alive and you’ve been trying to keep him alive. That just makes it so much sweeter y’know?”

“What are you talking about?” Barry finally broke, asking the question the Löwen had been patiently baiting them into voicing. Inwardly, Roddy was grateful the Jägerbar had asked first.

“Tomorrow night’s lineup of course. The fans want to see you both in the ring again. You’ve gained quite a few fans Jägerbar and the bets on you,” he pointed to Roddy now with a positively giddy smile twisting his face. “Bets are doubling up on you faster than I’ve ever seen. ‘Course most of them are against you but everyone’s dying to see if you’ll manage to pull off another miracle.”

They were getting closer to the heart of the matter now as the Löwen’s amusement grew and Roddy’s sense of dread heightened. Beside him, Barry was puffing up again, inching closer to him all the while.

“Tomorrow, you two are going in the ring against each other. You’ll be the prizefight of the night.”

* * *

Barry positively raged when the Löwen’s announcement hit home, his woge fluctuating wildly as his fever made him unable to maintain a proper grip on both his human and Wesen sides. Meanwhile, Roddy sat frozen in a stunned and mournful silence. The possibility had always existed somewhere in the back of his head – the reality that only one of them would make it out alive but now; now it adopted an ever darker connotation.

When viewed through Nicholas’ twisted logic, the events of their captivity actually made more sense now. Cleo’s calmness in the face of Barry’s disobedience, her willingness to accept and offer deals that didn’t benefit her in any apparent way and, most of all, her approval at finding out how close Jägerbar and Reinigen were becoming.

In the background Nicholas was outright howling with laughter, more than satisfied by Barry and Roddy’s reactions to this revelation. Judging by the sheer mirth on his face, he must have begged Cleo herself to let him break the news to them – it had been all he’d wanted since laying eyes on Roddy – to be the one to deliver his death sentence. Now that sadistic pleasure was made all the more keen by the added layer of impending betrayal and suffering the Jägerbar’s role would bring.

Eventually the cackling Löwen was dragged away by George, a disapproving frown on the other Löwen’s face. Beside him, Barry would not stop spouting curses and snarling, winding himself up to fight a foe already out of reach. At some point, the waves of aggression rolling off the Jägerbar became overwhelming and Roddy made an attempt to calm him.

“Barry. Stop.”

The Jägerbar continued his tirade, shoulders rising and eyes flashing as he worked himself up.

“Barry,” Roddy snapped.

Immediately the Jägerbar’s attention diverted to his cellmate and a penitent expression appeared on his face. “I’m sorry.” He paused to observe Roddy’s clenched teeth and furrowed brow. “You’re awfully quiet about this.”

“What else is there to say?” Roddy managed to bite out despite the taste of despair fast weighing on his tongue. “You heard him. It’s been her plan since the beginning and we’ve just been playing right into it.”

“Roddy, no,” he started in a sympathetic tone, moving to face Roddy more fully. “That’s not what this is—”

“Isn’t it though?” Roddy knew there were probably tears of frustration threatening his eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge them lest they start to fall in earnest. This whole time he’d been holding onto the faint hope that they could weather the storm – that together the two of them might find a way to survive. Tomorrow that hope would prove to be his undoing. He could not bring himself to kill Barry anymore than the Jägerbar would be able to sink teeth and claws into the Reinigen he’d sworn to protect. “This whole time she’s been letting us get closer just for – for _this_.”

“What about you?” Barry asked, his hand still poised to reach out should the Reinigen give any indication of accepting his touch. “What did this mean to you?”

Roddy forced himself to look Barry in the eyes as he gave his final confession. “You’ve meant everything to me. You kept me alive, you kept me human – you gave me _hope_.” His voice tapered off before he could give voice to the darker thoughts lurking at the periphery of his awareness. “I wouldn’t _want_ to be alive if I hadn’t met you,” he finally choked out.

It seemed the Jägerbar had finally reached a breaking point for, in the next moment, he’d secured Roddy firmly in his arms, head resting atop his so the Reinigen could hide his face in a broad shoulder.

“I wish none of this had happened,” Barry admitted quietly. “I wish we never had to be here but…I’m grateful I got to meet you.” _Before the end_ lingered unspoken in the air between them and Barry’s arms tightened fractionally before he moved to let go.

“Don’t,” Roddy sighed, moving to return the embrace. If Barry was surprised, he didn’t give any indication, merely repositioning them so they lay more comfortably on the ground rather than staying awkwardly slumped against the bars of the cage. It wouldn’t matter what the Löwen saw now – if one of them was destined to die tomorrow then they would take what comfort they could from each other in the present.

“I won’t do it.”

Roddy blinked, clenching and unclenching his fist in acknowledgment of the statement.

“Tomorrow night. I won’t fight you.” _I won’t kill you_. “We’ve survived this long together. We’ll figure something out.”

For once, Roddy wasn’t taken in by the Jägerbar’s faint rays of hope – tomorrow, for the final time they would live or die by each other’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end. Look forward to the first chapter of Part 2 along with Chapter 12.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was actually edited before posting. Of course that'll make any errors even more embarrassing but please excuse them.
> 
> If you have any questions or comments about the story feel free to message me or just leave a comment below!
> 
> Part 2 Chapter One up now!
> 
> Update: Please leave a comment telling me your favorite part of the story. I'm designing a cover for it and would appreciate the feedback!

 

 _For once, Roddy wasn’t taken in by the Jägerbar’s faint rays of hope_ – _tomorrow, for the final time, they would live or die by each other’s hand._

 

The day preceding their final night Barry and Roddy spent almost every waking moment maintaining some form of physical contact. Under normal circumstances, Roddy wasn’t a very touchy-feely kind of person. It had been a good day when Roddy had felt comfortable enough to let Sarah initiate casual contact outside of their more romantic interactions and he’d dated her for a month. Granted it had been an on-again-off-again sort of relationship but the significance of the situation should not be underestimated. He couldn’t fight off the niggling doubt that if it weren’t for their situation – the sense of codependence that had developed during their captivity – they would have never met let alone come to feel so strongly about each other. Of course it didn’t stop him from soaking up every ounce of companionship and bit of comfort Barry was willing to offer up in light of their impending doom.

Once when they lay tangled together, each more reluctant than the other to lose the warmth of their embrace, Roddy had laid his hand tentatively over the left side of Barry’s chest. The Jägerbar’s heart beat a steady legato rhythm under Roddy’s touch and he briefly considered asking about the spot Barry kneaded as he chanted and prayed. Perhaps optimism, the kind that could only posses those anticipating death, had finally managed to penetrate the numbness that had pervaded him since Nicholas’ announcement. That was the only explanation for the little voice in the back of his head that urged him to ask Barry “after”. After what he didn’t know but something in him insisted on it. Besides, it felt like cheating to ask something so personal when he knew Barry would readily offer the information as they lay there on death’s door.

Eulogies offered in desperation and some half-hearted hope of remembrance. It wasn’t too long ago that Roddy had thought the same thing about the others who’d been captured along with him – those whose fates he’d evaded for so long: Talia, Cory and Devon. Talia the Fuchsbau, who’d gone to join her boyfriend Kevin in death. Cory the Eisbiber, oldest of seven whose names Roddy could no longer recall – Cory had been the middle child that much he still knew. Devon the Willahara, and his mother, his only family in the world who now would always be alone. He would not let Barry join them in his memories, no matter how briefly they would remain memories. There was every chance he would be seeing the others again come sunset. They would be disappointed that their last hope of remembrance hadn’t made it out after all.

When the thoughts grew too loud and the dread too heavy Roddy would focus instead on the Jägerbar curled protectively around him. The beat of his heart was Roddy’s favorite focal point. He would follow the rhythm of the Jägerbar’s breath, deep yet steady as he attempted not to jostle Roddy too much in the stillness. The power in his limbs, coiled tight around the waning body in his grasp. Lack of food and regular battles had made him less bulky and wirier but Jägerbar strength allowed him to feel safe and secured nonetheless. The callouses on his hands and fingertips moved soothingly over Roddy’s scalp through matted hair grounding him almost as much as the Jägerbar’s scent, deep and earthy under the now familiar smell of drying blood. Wood. Damp. Rust. Blood. Barry. The scents served as mantra for the Reinigen – grounding him when the rest of the world tilted on its axis and reminded him of the one simple fact.

Whatever was coming next – he wouldn’t be facing it alone.

* * *

Blood. Fear. Snarling. Roaring. Blood. Anger. Cursing. Blood. Chaos. Blood.

“Roddy! Roddy wake up!”

Barry was outright shaking him as he was ripped from sleep by the sights and smells of battle around them. They were still in their cage but that didn’t stop them from processing what was happening outside. The door to the stall had been left unlatched and the red jug Alexander used to refill their dishes was spilling water onto the ground outside their cage. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Barry, what’s happening?” Roddy asked, grasping Barry’s arms to keep the Jägerbar from shaking him any further. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Alexander came in when a commotion started out in the barn. A bunch of Balam started fighting their way in. I think they came to rescue the other one.”

Releasing Barry and struggling out of his grip, Roddy scurried to the front of their cell, craning his neck to make sense of what was happening around them. The barn was fully lit now as the sounds of yelling and snarling reverberated around them. Directly in front of them, Roddy watched Alexander struggling against a female Balam, her silver fur already marred by claw marks from other opponents. Alexander may have been larger and heavier but the aging Löwen was no match for his younger, faster adversary. With a fearsome roar she ducked under what could have been a crippling blow and dragged her claws across his throat. A wretched, bubbling sound wrenched itself from the Löwen’s mouth as he raised both hands to try and stem the tide of blood flowing from the wound. The Balam had already moved on to another opponent.

Roddy’s eyes met Alexander’s, his features frozen in a paralyzed woge as he crashed to his knees in front of their cage. A strange stillness descended over Roddy as he watched the light abruptly disappear from the Löwen’s eyes and the woge finally release its grip over his face.

“Move aside,” Barry’s voice broke Roddy’s trance as he shouldered him gently albeit hurriedly aside. Reaching through the bars, it took him a moment to realize that Barry was dragging Alexander’s body a little closer to them. Patting down the body impatiently it didn’t take long for Roddy to catch on to Barry’s train of thought.

“He kept the keys on his belt.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, Barry switched focus, his hands working swiftly if clumsily to unhitch the ring of keys hanging at the dead Löwen’s hip. With a triumphant noise, Barry managed to yank them free before handing them off to Roddy. As expected, the Reinigen didn’t waste a moment in determining which key went to the Wesen’s cages. There were only four on the loop. The first two were much too small for the padlock on their bars. Roddy managed to guess the right key on the first try and he had to fight to keep from hyperventilating at the small _shcnick_ of metal on metal signaling their impending freedom.

The lock fell away with a heavy noise, near defeaning to Roddy even over the continued chaos. How many of these Wesen were Löwen and how many were Balam? Were the other fighters already also engineering their escapes? If Barry and Roddy dashed out into the madness, would they make it out themselves?

He looked up as a broad hand settled on his shoulder, steadying him as it had through the waiting. Barry nodded at Roddy, his eyes turning maroon as he readied his woge for what was to come.

“When I open the gate run as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay,” Roddy breathed allowing his own woge to rise to the surface. “Right behind me.” He wanted to make Barry promise but he knew that now was neither the time nor place – he would have to believe in the Jägerbar now more than ever. “Okay.”

Reaching up to squeeze Barry’s hand – one last contact to share the Jägerbar’s strength and determination – Roddy crouched and, with the creak of rusted iron, he sprang forward. He stumbled slightly as he started but Barry’s hand grabbed the back of his hoodie, dragging him forward and keeping him in the front. At one point he could have sworn someone (a wayward Schakal perhaps?) swiped at his face but he barely registered the fresh wounds on his face over Barry’s vengeful roar. His legs were already slowing, his lungs burning and eyes watering but, between one breath and the next, the air shifted from a stale and blood-drenched to crisp and sharp. It felt like the air had been punched from his lungs as a cool breeze met his next inhale and he fought the urge to collapse into the dirt below him.

Wait. Breeze? Dirt? Roddy hadn’t even realized when he’d crossed the threshold from harsh, artificial light to running beneath the gentle light of a full moon, too focused on moving his body to process much about his surroundings.

“Barry—” He looked over his shoulder, fully prepared to see an empty space behind him (it would be too simple if nothing went wrong – too fortuitous to hope the Jägerbar had managed to escape behind him as promised) when he was pushed forward again by familiar hands.

“Keep moving. Head towards that line of trucks over there.”

Sure enough, on the edge of the field around the barn, a line of cars sat silently in the deceptively still night air. Urging his body forward, the Reinigen put in one last burst of speed before all but collapsing against the side of a nondescript pickup truck. It seemed to be an older model if the wide grill and angular features were any indication but it didn’t seem to matter to Barry who promptly yanked at the car door hopefully. To Roddy’s surprise, it sprang open on the first try and, following the Jägerbar’s lead, he hauled himself into the passenger seat on the other side.

“What’s the plan now?” Roddy panted. Barry seemed to be engineering their escape on instinct alone and Roddy was loath to interfere when they were this close freedom. “We don’t have the keys to this thing and it won’t be long before Wesen start fleeing.”

“Good thing I know how to hotwire a car then,” Barry grunted, reaching down to feel around the steering column. “Shit. Give a minute. Keep watch to make sure nobody is coming.”

Obediently, Roddy straightened himself in his seat, straining his eyes in the direction of the barn. The blacked out windows were doing a pretty good job of minimizing the light escaping from inside and he kept his eyes trained on the opening where he and Barry had sprinted out from. There was nothing but open ground between the cars and the barn and, assuming the Löwen won, it wouldn’t be too hard for them to spot the shadows moving between the vehicles. He just hoped Barry would finish with whatever he was doing before it came to that. There was a clattering noise as Barry searched for something in the backseat and Roddy couldn’t resist glancing back to see what he was doing. With a sound of triumph, Barry hoisted out a large metal toolbox. Wasting no time, he cracked it open, digging out a flathead screwdriver and a hammer.

Suddenly, from the darkness, an arm reached out and wrapped around Barry’s throat.

“Barry!” Roddy screamed, throwing himself into the backseat.

“Roddy run,” Barry choked out, scratching and biting at the arm around him.

Behind him, a cruel pair of eyes glinted in the darkness from beneath a familiar brow. Nicholas had followed them out into the night.

“I should’ve just killed you myself when I had the chance.”

Before he could get a good enough grip to sink his claws into Barry’s throat Roddy acted. Snatching the hammer from where it had fallen on old leather, Roddy swung as hard as he could just as Barry slipped down in the Löwen’s hold. With a sickening _crunch_ Nicholas released his grip and the woge abruptly faded from his face. Barry fell forward, leaning on the backseat for support while a series of deep, dry coughs wracked his body. Dropping the hammer, Roddy brought his hands up to Barry’s face.

“I thought you were keeping watch?” Barry asked, rubbing at his throat to encourage airflow.

“He didn’t come from the barn. He must have followed us out and circled around.”

“I should have been able to smell him coming,” Barry berated himself, a fresh sheen of sweat highlighting the flush on his face.

“Then you would have smelled me as well.”

Roddy looked up in panic, his good hand already creeping towards the discarded hammer beside him. Behind them, standing over Nicholas’ body in the moonlight, was George. His eyes glinted in the silver light as he surveyed the scene before him. Barry tensed, hair growing on his arms and teeth elongating in his mouth as the Löwen stared coolly at them. Strangely enough, the Löwen was making no move to guard himself and not even the inkling of a woge lingered beneath his skin. It was almost like he had no intention of attacking them.

Seeming to find what he was looking for in Roddy’s searching gaze, he moved, slowly and smoothly, to crouch next to Nicholas’ body. He searched for a moment before straightening himself out, a pair of keys sitting heavy in his open palm.

“Here,” George said, tossing the keys at Roddy over Barry’s shoulder. He barely managed to catch them with his left hand, abandoning the hammer once more to do so. “Take the car and drive west on I-84. You should hit Portland in ten hours if you don’t stop.”

“Why are you doing this?” Barry growled, still standing defensively in front of Roddy. “Why are you letting us escape?”

“The honor of leaving the games alive belongs solely to the victor. Leo, the former leader of our pride, said that once while staring down a Grimm. You have both proven yourselves victors in the ring. If it all ends tonight, you two have already earned your right to live. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“What about him?” Roddy asked, indicating the unconscious body between them.

“What about him?” George smirked, a strange almost placid expression. “He’s my responsibility, not yours. Even I have things I want to protect, Reinigen. Same as you two.”

Another stare-off ensued, the tension only broken by a weak groan from the body on the ground.

“I would hurry before he wakes up and decides to take his car back if I were you.”

Not replying, Barry crowded Roddy back into the vehicle before shutting the door with a decisive slam. Never taking his eyes of the Löwen, now crouched over his companion and checking his pulse with a bored expression, Barry shuffled his way to the driver’s side. As the Jägerbar’s hand curled around the door handle, George spoke again.

“There’s some betting money in the glove compartment. There should be enough in there to get yourselves home and then some. Follow the path through the woods until you hit the highway. Follow the signs to Idaho Falls. You should be able to get your bearings from there. ”

If it were anyone else, Roddy would almost be expecting a “safe travels” or “good luck” from how casually the Löwen addressed them. Acknowledging the statement with a jerk of his head Barry finally clambered back into the driver’s seat and jammed the keys into the ignition. Sure enough, the car started less-than-smoothly as Roddy hauled himself back to the front seat. Without further word, Barry pressed the clutch and shifted to reverse. Easing off the clutch slowly, Barry gradually pressed on the gas so the car rolled out of its formation with the others. Roddy spared one more glance for George, leaning over Nicholas now so his face was obstructed by shadow, before Barry shifted into first gear and they were off.

* * *

It took them quite a bit of time before they reached the open highway as George had promised. The drive was made in tense silence, Barry glancing frequently in the rearview mirror as though expecting the Löwen to have changed his mind and sent the others after them. Nary another car crossed their line sight on the open stretch of road and Roddy felt something inside him unfurl in relief as their tires crossed from dirt roads to asphalt. Not quite sure which direction would take them west Roddy allowed Barry to make the call, watching in silence as he turned left, and hoped for the best. After a few minutes of this Roddy, practically a boneless heap in his seat, Barry rolled down the driver’s side window to let in a breeze. Copying his example Roddy did the same allowing the fresh, cool night air fill his aching lungs.

“Check the glove compartment,” Barry said, his voice dry and thin.

Nodding his head, Roddy leaned forward to open the aforementioned compartment, heaving out a thick brown envelope. Reaching inside Roddy fished out a small brown, leather-bound journal. Undoing the strap around the middle and thumbing through the pages Roddy found rows of numbers scribbled beside names and Wesen types. Nicholas was the bookkeeper for the games it seemed. Setting that aside, Roddy delved back into the envelope. He paused, eyes widening, hand still inside, feeling at its contents.

“What’s that look for? What’s inside?”

Gulping, Roddy pulled out a thick wad of twenties with a rubber band holding them all in place. Barry swore and the car swerved slightly as he eyed the bundle of cash with no small measure of disbelief. Some betting money his ass – this was more money than Roddy had ever seen in one place let alone held in his own two hands.

“How much do you think—?”

“At least a couple hundred,” Roddy guessed shakily, stuffing the money out of sight as quickly as possible. “Definitely more. I’m trying not to think too much about it.”

A beat of silence stretched between them before Roddy broke down in hysterical laughter. Not a moment later Barry’s voice joined his. It got so bad in fact, the Jägerbar was forced to stop on the shoulder of the road while he held his stomach in laughter. Roddy knew there had to be tears streaming down his face with how harshly his breath was escaping him but, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Out here, on the side of a dusty old highway with nothing but the moon and stars to judge him and Barry’s eyes squinting at him from behind mirthful tears, there was nothing left to hide. He hiccoughed repeatedly even as Barry gathered himself enough to reach over and tentatively wipe at the tears escaping Roddy’s eyes. A gentle smile curved over his face and a long-absent light illuminated his eyes. In that moment he’d never looked more…well…Barry.

Roddy returned his affectionate smile, the stretch cracking his chapped lips and tugging at the scratches just now beginning to sting his cheeks. Wherever they were, whenever they were, the two of them had made it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And at long last 12/12! Now I can list this baby as complete. Part 2 will update regularly on Sundays. Some weeks will be multi chapter but mostly look forward to one at a time.
> 
> Thank you so much for embarking with me on this crazy journey. Your comments and kudos have reminded me why I started writing in the first place and I will be forever grateful to all of you. 
> 
> Here's a quick timeline of the events of Survive:
> 
> Day 1 Chapter(s) 1, 2 & 3 (72 hours)  
> Day 2 Chapter(s) 4 (48 hours)  
> -1st Fight  
> Day 3 Chapter(s) (72 hours)  
> Day 4 Chapter(s) 5 & 6 (96 hours)  
> -2nd Fight  
> Day 5 Chapter(s) (120 hours)  
> Day 6 Chapter(s) 6 (144 hours)  
> -3rd Fight  
> Day 7 Chapter(s) (168 hours)  
> Day 8 Chapter(s) 7 (192 hours)  
> -4th Fight  
> Day 9 Chapter(s) 8 (216 hours)  
> Day 10 Chapter(s) 9 & 10 (240 hours)  
> -5th Fight  
> Day 11 Chapter(s) 10 (264 hours)  
> Day 12 Chapter(s) 10 (288 hours)  
> -6th Fight  
> Day 13 Chapter(s) 11, 12 (312 hours)  
> Day 14 Chapter(s) 12 (336 hours)  
> -Escape


End file.
